Beyond the Shadows of the Night
by Cerridwen
Summary: One night Severus Snape is visited by the ghost of Lily Potter, his schooltime girlfriend. She tells him a shocking truth and entrusts him with a mysterious and difficult task in which he has to help Harry to ultimately destroy Voldemort. **new chapter!**
1. Prologue

A/N:This story is set in Harry's fifth year and begins at their first Potions lesson after the holidays. It will contain very absurd and unrealistic ideas plus heavy anachronism. If you think any of the things mentioned is spoiling the books for you, don't read it. You have been warned. ^.~ PLEASE review and tell me what you think about it. 

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter verse belongs to JKR the Great One. Only minor characters are my own invention (some house-elves for example), as well as the Cambius Potion and the Ayrin. Inspiration for this story comes from: Michael Ende's Die Unendliche Geschichte; Cassandra Claire's Draco Sinister; Riley's Pawn to Queen; Firecross's An Exercise In Cruelty and Morrighan's The Long Road To Damascus.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta-readers Miranda Vine and Denise for removing all my mistakes!

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**Beyond the Shadow of the Night**

_Prologue_

"What did he say? Was it two spoons of cobra venom and seven spoons of Aconite essence, or two spoons of Aconite essence and seven spoons of cobra venom?" Harry asked Ron in a whisper while stirring his Cooling Potion and keeping an eye on Snape, who had turned his back on them and was helping Draco Malfoy.  It was their first day at school after the holidays and, of course, Snape would never take any consideration for his students whose heads were nearly empty of anything Potions related after a two months long holiday. Harry was careful not to let Snape notice that he hadn't paid attention. If Snape found out, it would be a full ten points off Gryffindor -- if Snape was having a merciful day, that is. There was no limit to anything above that, and Harry didn't want to give Snape the satisfaction of having an excuse for taking points off Gryffindor. 

Ron thought hard for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I _think … he might have said two spoons of Aconite essence and seven spoons of cobra venom …" he finally said._

Harry shot him a doubtful look. "I really hope you're right. If we get that thing wrong …" He indicated the potion. "I really don't want to think about it. Shame Hermione's not here." 

Hermione was in the hospital wing due to a nasty bout of flu and wouldn't come out before the end of the week. So they had to do without her, whether they wanted to or not. And they already missed her dearly since they didn't have anyone next to them who would help them with the complicated potion they were brewing for the lesson. The Cooling Potion was supposed to lower a too-high temperature a few degrees. And at the beginning of the lesson Snape had particularly emphasized that messing-up the potion could be highly dangerous, perhaps even causing an explosion. So Harry was a bit worried, especially because one usually couldn't count on Ron's attention in class, particularly not in Snape's. But he didn't want to attract Snape's attention by asking someone in the row in front of them, and asking Snape was definitely out of the question.  

So Harry drew a deep breath and added two spoons of Aconite essence and finally seven spoons of cobra venom. That was a big mistake. Cobra venom was a highly potent substance and more than three times as much of it as was actually needed was definitely _too much. The potion bubbled dangerously and Harry had only enough time to leap under his desk before it exploded. With a bang, the contents of his potion splashed in all directions. For a few minutes there was absolute chaos as everyone screamed. Harry opened his eyes under the table and saw huge puddles of his potion seeping across the floor, while dozens of feet ran in the direction of the washbasin, their owners apparently trying to get rid of the potion splashes. God, his potion must have drenched the whole class! That meant that everyone who had come into contact with it would suffer from an undercooling for the rest of the day.  _

Snape, in the meantime, was trying to restore calm. "SILENCE!" he shouted over the noise. "Sit down! All of you! _Now!" _

Harry dared to emerge from under his table, and looking around himself, his heart nearly stopped. The classroom was a mess. His potion seemed to have had a huge explosive force: it had torn his cauldron to a thousand pieces and spread its contents all over the classroom. The potion was even dripping from the ceiling. Nearly everyone, apart from himself, had been splashed by it and some had been hit by sharp pieces of metal from his cauldron. He buried his head in his hands. What punishment he would get for this he didn't yet want to consider. 

"It won't be life-threatening if you have been splashed by the potion," Snape snarled, still occupied with silencing the screams of panic. Neville whimpered. He had been working right in front of Harry and had got a full load of Cooling Potion as it exploded. Now he was lying on the floor, shivering badly with cold. 

"Someone take Longbottom to the hospital wing," Snape spat in Neville's direction. 

"Sir! I'm bleeding, Sir!" Malfoy proclaimed loudly in a pained voice, indicating a hardly visible scratch upon his cheek.

"Malfoy, hospital wing too," Snape said idly.

Dean Thomas helped the shivering Neville to his feet and out of the door while Malfoy strutted past Harry, shooting him a gloating look. 

Slowly, Snape turned around and approached Harry's desk. Harry noticed that Snape was bleeding too: a sharp piece of metal had cut him right across the face. The look he gave Harry made him wish he could crawl under the table again. 

"So," Snape said in a dangerously soft voice, coming to a halt in front of the pitiful remains of what had once been Harry's cauldron. "That's it then. You've finally gone too far. It's not enough that you want to draw everyone's attention to yourself by breaking school rules as a habit and acting like a hero. No, now you even deliberately cause mayhem and hurt your fellow students, putting them in considerable danger just to satisfy this delusional desire of yours to always be the centre of attention. We shall see the headmaster about that." There was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that made Harry shudder.

"Class dismissed," he snapped at the rest of the students who were now all shivering due to the Cooling Potion. "And as I don't have any antidote to the Cooling Potion at hand, you will have to bear the effects of it for the rest of the day. They will gradually subside and should be gone by tomorrow. For the inconvenience you've got Potter to thank." 

A general grumble and glares in Harry's direction followed that announcement. Slowly, the rest of the class shuffled out of the room, leaving a very nervous Harry alone with Snape. 

"So, Potter, follow me," said Snape, and he looked almost triumphant. He led the way out the door and up the corridor, Harry trotting miserably in his wake. No doubt Snape would try to get him expelled again and Harry didn't see why Dumbledore would protect him. He _had put his classmates into danger after all. Everyone apart from him was suffering from undercooling, and two students had even ended up in the hospital wing. Even though there hadn't been any need at all for Malfoy to go there, that didn't change the facts. And how many warnings had Harry already gotten from Dumbledore? How many times had Dumbledore already said that he would get expelled if he broke the rules one more time, and how he had only escaped expulsion before by lucky circumstances? Even Dumbledore's patience would wear out one day. It didn't matter if Harry had intended to cause mayhem (as Snape would say, of course) or not, he had still acted negligently. His stomach twisted at the thought of being sent back to the Dursleys, and he had hardly any hope left that he would escape that fate this time._

~*~

Severus was already exulting inwardly. This time he would get Potter! He could already see the headline in the _Daily Prophet: "Famous Harry Potter Suffering Expulsion From Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft__ and Wizardry". He smirked. That would serve the arrogant snot right! That would pull him down from his high horse. Never mind if today's mayhem was intended or not, Potter had gotten away with far too much already. And this would finally be the chance to get rid of him, once and for all. _

They arrived at the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. 

"Raspberry drops," Snape said idly. Nothing happened. He swore badly under his breath. Of course... Dumbledore would have changed the password for the new school term. Now the wretched guessing game about which sweet Dumbledore had used as a password this year would start _again. _

"Sherbet Lemon... Chocolate Frog... mustard tart..." Out of the corner of his eye, Snape saw Harry trying but failing to suppress a snicker. He felt incredibly foolish standing there in front of the headmaster's office, not having a clue about the password and trying the most ridiculous names without the slightest success. And all that in front of Potter, of all people. 

Suddenly the door slid open, revealing Dumbledore himself. "Severus," he said in mild surprise, letting his eyes wander from Snape to Harry. "What has the young Potter done wrong now?" There was the slightest trace of amusement in his voice. 

"Headmaster, I need to speak to you about a most severe matter," Severus replied. 

"Shall we go into my office then?" suggested Dumbledore with a smile, and he gestured for them to follow him up the stairs. Severus shot Harry a nasty look and preceded him up the spiral staircase. 

Once in his circular office, Dumbledore motioned for Harry and Severus to sit down in two comfortable looking chairs, while he himself perched on the armchair behind his desk. 

"Hot chocolate anyone?" he asked, looking from Harry to Severus. 

Harry shook his head mutely, and Severus answered rather stiffly: "No, thanks." He wanted to get the whole meeting over with as soon as possible. 

"I hope you don't mind if I have some?" Dumbledore asked, smiling. 

"Certainly not."

And with a swift movement of his wand, Dumbledore conjured up a steaming mug of hot chocolate onto his desk.

"Ahh..." he said after having taken a sip. "Nothing is better. You should really try that chocolate one day."

Severus mentally rolled his eyes. How could the man think about hot chocolate when there was a pressing matter to discuss? They weren't there for a hen party, after all. But such behaviour was typical of Dumbledore. 

Severus cleared his throat. "If we could proceed to our issue now..."

"Certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "What is the problem?"

"Professor, in an act of pure insolence, quite violent in nature, this boy has put his classmates into considerable danger by blowing up his Cooling Potion. He deliberately caused mayhem in my class which has resulted in many of my students suffering severe undercooling for the whole of the day --- apart from himself, of course--- as well as several injuries due to sharp pieces of his blasted cauldron. As a fact, two students were hurt so badly that they had to be sent to the hospital wing. Not to mention the mess he created in my classroom---"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Not only did Snape make him out to be some sort of criminal, he also twisted the facts as he liked. Back in class he had said that the undercooling wouldn't be harmful, and now it was suddenly 'severe'. And as for two students having been hurt badly, that was a downright lie. Admittedly, Neville might have been worse off than the others, but Malfoy had put on a damn show and Snape knew it. 

"This is not true! I didn't do it on purp---" Harry blurted out, but Snape cut him off. 

"Silence! It is not your turn to speak," Snape said angrily. He addressed the headmaster again. 

"Surely acts of this nature require nothing short of expulsion from school. This boy seems mentally unstable to me and shouldn't have further contact with his fellow students --- for both their and his own protection..."

Harry gaped at him open-mouthed. This was unbelievable! If Snape went on like that, he would earn him a lifetime in St. Mungo's.

"Thank you for this accurate report and assessment, Severus," Dumbledore finally interrupted. "But I think you overrate the situation a bit. We should at least listen to what Harry has to say to this." 

He turned to look at Harry, his face gentle and without a trace of anger or disappointment. 

"Professor Dumbledore, th-this is not true!" Harry stuttered. " I didn't do it on purpose. I-I simply got the ingredients wrong I think. And then the potion exploded. I couldn't do anything about it. The potion had such force that it blasted my cauldron apart and splashed the whole class. But it was an accident! You must believe me..."

Harry held his breath. There was a tight knot of fear in his stomach. What would Dumbledore decide? 

Dumbledore looked sternly at him with his blue gaze. "Undoubtedly you have acted negligently. And I advise you to pay more attention in your next class..."

Snape looked furious. "But headmaster---"

"No guilt can be proven, Severus." He eyed him sternly. Then he added to Harry: "You won't be expelled, of course. But I should think that a punishment is appropriate. You will clean up the mess you have created --- without magic."

A huge wave of relief swept over Harry. "Thanks, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's lips twitched into a smile. "Off you go. And I hope you won't blow up another potion in the near future."

Severus was seething with anger. Dumbledore had thwarted him _again. He had the feeling that every time that little bastard Potter got away with a prank, his hate for him seemed to increase --- if that were possible. Potter was playing them all up and they didn't even seem to notice. How extraordinarily like his father he was! The resemblance was almost ridiculous! Not only physically, but in his whole manner --- all the arrogance and conceit of the young Potter were just an imitation of his father's. James, like his son, had thought he was above the rest of the world and that he could have anything. They both made a habit of breaking rules, and even getting rewards for it, leaving other people to pay instead. Well, he --- Severus--- had three full years left to get Potter Jr. thrown out of school yet. It was still early. _

"Get a move on. I want my classroom clean before dinner," he snapped at Harry who was strolling in his wake. "And don't think I'll let you go before you have removed every last drop of your confounded potion! In!" he spat, flinging open the door to the Potions dungeon. "For every spot I still see when you've finished, it'll be ten points from Gryffindor. And I'm warning you --- if you so much as _touch anything with magic, you will be very sorry indeed. I'll be watching you closely."_

~*~

Harry stood helpless in the middle of the room, not knowing where to start. The dungeon looked like a battlefield. If he were to clean it without any magic, it would take ages. But he didn't dare try and cheat Snape -- he would find out anyway. With a sigh, Harry started clearing away the largest pieces of his destroyed cauldron. He'd need a new one, and during the next Hogsmeade visit he'd have to look for one. Nothing could dampen his joy about not being expelled, however. He was so relieved he couldn't help grinning broadly as he cleaned the floor.

~*~

Severus, in the meantime, had collected some exams from his office and had settled behind his desk to mark them, every now and then shooting a glance at Harry who was now sweeping the floor and wearing an insolent grin. New anger surged up inside him. _Go on, Potter, laugh! He thought__. One day I'll get you!_

"Next time you won't get away this easily, I can promise you that," he said, eyes narrowed. "Dumbledore might still consider you the innocent child who is always the victim of inconvenient accidents, but you can't fool me. And one day even Albus Dumbledore will see through you."

Harry, it seemed, had chosen to ignore him. 

"Well, it is not surprising that you turned out to be the way you are," Severus sneered. "Your father seems to have passed on his most outstanding qualities to you. He was not a jot better than you are. He had the same arrogant, conceited attitude that made him think he could take liberties and do _anything. Like father, like son, Potter. This attitude of yours will get you into very deep trouble one day, mark my words."_

"I am NOT arrogant and neither was my father," Harry replied defiantly, his face flushed. "It is just that he was successful and you weren't. You've been jealous of him ever since you knew him. You couldn't bear that someone outshone you that way when you were probably nothing but an average student. That's why you hate him, isn't it?"       

Harry had hit a sore point. Severus's face had turned a nasty brick colour. What made him furious was not the accusation Harry had just made, but the fact that it was true. What first had been only jealousy and dislike because of James's successes had turned into pure hatred when James had paired off with Lily – Lily, who had been Severus's girlfriend in their school-time, and who had left him because of malicious intrigue. Sirius Black had tried --- and succeeded --- in luring her away from him. Severus had loved Lily more than anyone else in his life – he still did --- and he would never forgive Sirius or James for what they had done to him. Naturally, he hated Harry, who was a vivid reminder of his unpleasant past. Every time Severus had to bear the sight of him in Potions class -- a second version of the late Potter with Lily's eyes, which was a contradiction in itself -- it sometimes drove him near madness. Every look at him reminded Severus of what had happened between him and Lily, and especially between Lily and James -- and that was what he so desperately wanted to forget. 

"Still thinking of your father as the hero, aren't you?" Severus said in almost a whisper. "I could tell you some unpleasant things about him."

"I don't believe you. Not one word of what you say is true!"

Snape scribbled a big zero upon the next exam without even looking at it. "To each his own. I suggest you leave now. I won't waste my time with you just because you are so slow," Severus spat. 

Harry hurried out of the dungeon, glad that he had been let off so quickly, leaving a brooding Snape staring after him. One thing had been confirmed yet again: there had never been anything Severus had hated more than James and Harry Potter. 


	2. Dark Revelations

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Katherine aka Star who contributed a lot to it. 

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**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter One: Dark Revelations_

_The falcons were soaring across the clouded sky, carried by the chilly breeze as if they weighed nothing at all, so light and graceful they were. The air was filled with their screeching cries. He was standing on a grassy hill staring into the far distance-- infinite freedom. The child next to him nuzzled up against him affectionately and its small hand clasped his tightly while it watched the falcons' swooping flight. His child... his own blood... his descendant who would carry on the name of his family with pride and honour... his child... Eagerly the child listened to what it was told about nature and its wonders. He ruffled the child's black hair lovingly. "Severus!" a voice interrupted him in his explanation. Lily! he thought to himself, smiling, and he turned to greet his wife ..._

Severus's head bumped against the wall of his bedroom. He groaned. Rubbing his forehead and blinking in the darkness, he tried to find a way back to reality. Had someone just called his name? No, that must have been in his dream... It had been such a good dream! For a few hours he had been with the child he had never had. God, how he longed to have a child of his own! A child that was entirely his. A child that was just like himself. A child he could love and cuddle and who wouldn't reject him but love him right back. As a father. They would do so much together! Hundreds of times he had pictured it. He'd teach it potion making and defence curses, he'd take it with him into nature, explaining all the plants and animals to it, collecting potion ingredients. And it would listen raptly to his every word, eager to learn. Not like those imbecilic idiots he had to teach every day, who would never understand the art of potion making, even if he hammered it into their empty heads. 

"Severus!" the soft female voice called again.

He froze. _That certainly hadn't been part of his dreams. The voice had come from right behind him and the speaker was __in his room. Slowly, he turned over in his bed, disentangling himself from the blankets. __What the---_

He gasped. Floating in mid-air was the apparition of a beautiful woman in long green robes. Her dark red hair was shining and mischief sparkled in her bright green eyes.  A golden shimmer seemed to radiate from her. 

"Lily!" Severus exclaimed, staring at her as if petrified. 

The apparition smiled at him. "Yes, Severus."

Severus was incapable of saying a word. His heart beating wildly, he just continued to stare. 

Lily hadn't changed at all since the last time he'd seen her, when... she'd still been alive. She didn't seem to have aged one day. Her hair was still a flaming red and her emerald eyes gleamed as brightly as in life. Just as he remembered her. Only the slight transparency of her appearance indicated that she was no longer a living person. But her youth would last forever... 

Severus fought off the choke of tears in his throat. He'd never even dared to hope to see her again since they had parted. And here she was, standing right before him, her graceful appearance floating a few inches above the floor. Seeing her before him, he realized that his love for her hadn't subsided the tiniest bit. If possible, it might even have grown. He was suddenly aching to pull her into his arms, to feel her one more time and nuzzle his face into her hair. But he knew it was impossible. Lily was no longer solid, he'd go right through her. She was just... _a shadow..._

"Why did you have to come here...?" Severus asked in a voice that was close to cracking. Seeing her after all the years made it even worse. He had spent the last fifteen years of his life trying to suppress all the misery their lost love had caused him. He had done everything in his might to rid his mind of the memory. And now it all came up again. All the emotions: grief, desperation, hopelessness, fear --- all that he had banished to the furthest corner of his mind and locked away so that they would never infest his brain with their nagging desolation, again flooded back over him and brought him near a breakdown. 

"You shouldn't have come... never... you shouldn't have come...," he whispered, tears now welling up in his eyes. He made no effort to wipe them away, he just let them stream unrestrainedly down his face. 

"I wouldn't if I'd had a choice. I would have spared you the pain," Lily said and in her eyes tears were glittering now too. 

Severus started. "What do you mean--- you had no choice?" he asked, composing himself as much as he could, forcing his voice to remain steady. This was no time for sentimentality. How could he have lost control like that! He was being stupid. Despairing had never helped anyone. He had managed it through fifteen years, and he would manage it through another fifteen years and longer. With a swift movement he wiped the tears from his face, determined to maintain his composure. But he couldn't stop his heart from feeling like a rock...  

"I have come from the land beyond to entrust a task to you," Lily began, her expression grave. "It will not be an easy one and it demands more than I would ever have dared to request from you. But you _must accomplish it, do you understand?  So much depends on it. " She paused, obviously searching for the right words. _

"A task?" Severus asked unbelievingly. "Me?"

"Yes, Severus. The Guardians have instructed me to inform you of your duty. I would never have been allowed to leave the Gates if it hadn't been for that. Listen, Severus. Dark times are coming---" Her eyes grew sad. "Very dark times. Evil forces are accumulating around Voldemort from everywhere. They are getting stronger and stronger. If they aren't stopped, they will eventually destroy the world. There is only one person who can stop them, the saviour of our world, and your task is to help and protect him in his fight against evil. Only with support he can succeed. Swear that you will stand by this saviour and support him with any help and advice you can give him." Lily's eyes were pleading so desperately that Severus wouldn't have been able to turn down anything she requested from him, even if she had required that he burn in hell till the end of days. There was nothing he could have denied the pleading eyes of the woman he still loved so much. 

"I swear it," Severus replied breathlessly, blindly submitting to his fate. "But who is it?"

"Harry, my son," Lily said, and she avoided his eyes. 

It was as if he had just been stabbed by a knife. Harry! Severus's insides churned and he tasted bitter gall in his mouth. He should have known! Who else could it be but the famous child prodigy! The unpleasant memory of that day's Potions lesson came to his mind again and then another picture appeared before his inner eye--- a gloating James. Pure anger and hatred surged up inside him. How could he have accepted so easily! Utterly blind and dazed he had agreed, without thinking. But even if he had refused, it probably wouldn't have been very wise. You couldn't oppose fate. Severus smiled wryly. He would have gladly done anything for Lily if it just hadn't involved James or his offspring in any way. He, Severus Snape, supposed to _help and advise the son of his only true love and his archenemy. How ironic! _

"I don't have another choice, do I?" he said with a slight bitterness in his voice. "If the _heavenly creatures say so..."_

"So you will do it? With all the devotion it demands?"

"With as much devotion as I can muster."

Lily's face lit up in a smile and Severus' mood lightened a bit. Alone for the sake of seeing her smile again, Severus would have appointed Harry Minister of Magic and would have worshipped him for the rest of his life if she'd asked him to. 

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes shining. 

"It's all right." Severus forced a crooked smile. 

He suddenly felt an urgent need to have some Calming Potion. A little dazed, he got up from his bed and went over to the shelves on the wall to search for the potion. 

"Just tell me one thing: why me of all people? I'm sure there are dozens of people who would scramble for the _honour of helping him," Severus said with just a tinge of sarcasm. _

"Only a true Slytherin can help him."

"Only a true Slytherin?" He raised an eyebrow as he picked up the potion from one of the shelves. "That still doesn't explain why it excludes anyone else apart from me. I am not the only Slytherin in the world."

"Severus... There's something I need to tell you. I never intended to do so, but I think it is time now that you know..." 

Severus, who had just been about to take a swig from the Calming Potion, stopped in his tracks, balancing the vial half-way to his mouth. Something in Lily's voice had made him sit up. A mixture of apprehension and suspicion overcame him. 

"What is it?" he asked, more sharply than he had intended. 

Lily hesitated. Apparently it was very hard for her to tell him. She looked at him anxiously. 

"Harry--" she began, then averted her eyes. "He's not James's son..."

Severus was completely baffled. "Not?" He smothered a laugh at the thought that James's wife should have been unfaithful to him-- the fool! 

"Well, who is the father?" he asked almost cheerfully. Any defeat of James had always rendered him content. 

"Harry's father is… you, Severus."

CLATTER!

The vial Severus had been holding was scattered across the floor in smithereens. He gaped. 

"ME?!"

Lily nodded mutely. 

_This couldn't be. This just wasn't possible! It had to be a very bad joke. Lily was mocking him. Or could he possibly-- NO! Impossible! _

"Is this possibly a joke at my expense?" Severus asked, the sarcasm hiding his consternation. 

"No, Severus. It is the truth. Do you still remember the night in our seventh year?"

Oh, yes, he remembered. As if he'd ever forget that! They had been so happy and careless... It had possibly-- no, definitely-- been the happiest time in his whole life. The memory still made his heart sting with the shattering force of something dear that was irretrievably lost. That night-- was it possible that-- 

"Of course I do. But assuming that I really _am his father-- Why would Harry look like--"_

He broke off abruptly. A horrible thought had suddenly occurred to him. If that meant that... 

"Lily!" he said breathlessly. "Are you telling me that--"

He realised that tears were rolling down Lily's cheeks. 

"Yes." Her voice was choked with sobs. 

Now he was horrified, not to mention absolutely confused. "It is strictly forbidden to use it! You had to have known that! How did you ever come by it? And why, _why did you do it?" he almost screamed at her, feeling an urge to shake her.  _

"James--" she sobbed. "He was so strange suddenly, so horrible... when he found out... I would never have done it if it hadn't been for him... but he insisted..."

The bastard! 

Severus's hate for James increased to the infinite. For the moment, the fact that _Harry was Severus's son took second place. James had mutilated his-- Severus's -- child! ... by using the illegal Cambius Potion... _

"Tell me! Everything!" Severus's voice was harsh. 

"I am so sorry, Severus..." Lily whispered, her face awash with tears that looked like precious pearls. She drew a deep breath and began. 

"After you and I... had parted, James kept looking after me. I was feeling so low and lonely and he seemed so worried about me. He was always trying to cheer me up with his jokes, taking me to Quidditch practice and letting me in on his plans with his friends. James was a real support to me during that hard time. I don't know what I would have done without him. After some time I realized how much I actually liked James. He seemed so understanding, so heroic and faithful to me and he appeared to anticipate my every wish..." Severus made an impatient noise. "But you probably don't want to hear that," she added quickly. "Anyway, we married right after graduation, as you know. Everything seemed just wonderful-- until my son was born-- _our son. It wasn't hard to tell that it couldn't be James' child and I had to tell him the truth. First he seemed only shocked and disappointed and then he... went mad." Her tears fell again. "He seemed beside himself that Harry wasn't his child. From one day to the next he had changed so drastically you wouldn't have believed he was the same man. I just couldn't understand it. It was so horrible. He threatened to kill me if I didn't agree to use the Cambius Potion on Harry. I had never even heard of it before. It was supposed to be illegal. How he came by the recipe is a mystery to me. I tried to talk him out of it, I really tried. But it was all in vain... He didn't care, just insisted on doing it and threatened me again. I didn't recognize him anymore, I was petrified by then... Anyway, we carried it out. I didn't have another choice. Even if I most desperately __didn't want Harry to become anything like James, especially not after those incidents. After Harry had imbibed the potion, he looked exactly like James and  some of James' qualities had probably been communicated too..." _

Severus had listened to this speech with growing horror. He was stunned. So this was James' true nature! To the whole world he had always shown a smiling face, but when it had come to showing real Gryffindor chivalry-- That hypocrite! He had concealed it damn well anyway. 

"I know," Severus managed to mumble rather awkwardly. He didn't quite know what to say to Lily, and he didn't want to upset her even more. "Polyjuice Potion mixed with the Imperius Curse and a Sealing Charm... extremely powerful and irreversible... Dark magic of the highest order..."

He buried his head in his hands. How _could they, how __could they have done it?!_

There was a long silence as both just stared at the floor, immersed in their thoughts. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Severus suddenly asked. "God knows, I wanted to have a child, always..." 

"I never knew that..." she said with astonishment. "I just couldn't tell you about our child. We had already parted and I... didn't think you'd still love me..." The tears were still flowing mutely down her face. 

"Lily, I have always loved you-- I still do. I know that I have been incredibly stupid and petty. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have let Sirius destroy our love."

Lily shook her head. "Don't blame yourself, Severus. It was just unlucky circumstances... it had to come the way it came. It is too late now."

"Yes..." he choked. 

Another silence followed. 

All of a sudden there was a faint sound of unearthly music, just upon the edge of hearing. Lily's eyes grew wide. 

"I am being called back! The time is over! Listen to me, Severus -- I haven't told you everything about your task yet. You must find the one _Ayrin that is left. It is the only means of destroying Voldemort."_

Lily's appearance grew fainter and more translucent. She was slowly vanishing. 

"Never forget-- find the Ayrin!" she called hurriedly, her voice growing fainter too and echoing eerily. "And follow the indications on the--"

She was gone. 

Severus sank down heavily on his bed again. For a few minutes, he just continued to sit there motionlessly. His mind was reeling. It had all been a bit too much for him. First the shock of Lily's apparition -- which had, at once, been so blissful and sad to see; then the disconcerting news about Harry being his son and about James's criminal machinations; and finally, this ominous task. All his thoughts were in wild disorder. What he needed now was an ice-cold shower. It was the only sensible thing he could think of doing at that moment. 

Slowly, he got up and went over to the wall that hid the secret entrance to his bath. He tapped a sequence of complicated rhythmical patterns with his wand against it, and the wall parted to let him through, revealing a long passageway that wound through the darkness. That was what he liked most about his dungeon private rooms: they were all connected by a maze of secret passageways, which gave to them a dark and mysterious sort of atmosphere.

At the end of the passageway he stopped at another door, unlocked it with yet another tapping sequence, and entered the bath. 

Severus's bath was rather gloomy. A single torch next to the entrance illuminated the bleak grey walls. There were no windows as it was underground, and water dripped from the ceiling. The room contained nothing but a large tub and a brass tap on the wall that procured water from the lake. 

After having undressed, Severus stepped into the tub and turned on the tap. As the icy jet of water began streaming over him, his mind cleared and the clouds of thought in his head vanished. He suddenly felt much lighter. A drastic remedy like an ice-cold shower had never yet failed its effect. He often needed it in the morning to wake his spirits after a night of magically induced sleep. Nothing else counteracted the strong Sleeping Potion better. 

Having dried and dressed in his usual black, Severus walked back to his bedroom, deliberating where to start. He probably ought to go straight to the headmaster and inform him of everything that had happened. Dumbledore had to know -- especially about the task-- as soon as possible even if it was still the dead of night. Severus still hadn't a clue what this task was actually about, let alone what an Ayrin was. But that didn't bother him at the moment. He would go to Dumbledore before breakfast. That would be early enough. What he needed now was some time to _think. _

He pushed the task aside and let his mind be occupied with Harry and the Cambius Potion alone. Even though he still couldn't quite believe what he had just learned, the first shock had worn off and had made place for some clear thoughts. What should he do about Harry? How should he treat him in the next Potions lesson? For a split second the thought of telling him everything wormed its way into Severus's head, only to be mentally ripped up and stamped upon. Impossible! Harry wouldn't believe a word and Severus would make a laughing stock of himself. It had to be kept quiet. He would just carry on the way he had always done. But what about co-operating with Harry? Harry was his son and he was still everything like James, damn it! Wasn't there anything he could do about it? Anything at all to give Harry his original self back? 

He recalled the properties of the Cambius Potion, pacing the room. He knew them all too well. Several times he had made the potion himself. That had been during his time as a Death Eater. Voldemort had used it quite a few times to... Something struck him as odd. Very odd. He rushed to the bookshelves on the wall and let his gaze wander over the spines. Finally he pulled out a heavy volume with gold lettering. He leafed through it, stopping at a page with the title _Cambius Potion. He knew everything about it by heart, but he had to read the description again, just to make sure. He read: _

_The Cambius Potion is a highly complex and intricate potion belonging to the genre of Dark Magic. The use of it is strictly forbidden by wizarding law due to the use of one of the Unforgivable Curses, the manipulation of a person at will, and various dangerous side effects. _

_The potion consists of three major parts: Polyjuice Potion, the Imperius Curse, and a Sealing Charm. In the past it was used to change a person's appearance and qualities to those of another person, living or dead. For that purpose, a Polyjuice Potion containing a part of the person to be transformed into had to be brewed. The peculiarity was that the potion was produced in a way that regarded the age difference between drinker and giver. After the Polyjuice Potion was finished, the first of the Unforgivable Curses, namely the Imperius Curse, was cast over it. The curse was responsible for characteristic changes in the drinker of the potion, who then took those of the giver. Finally, a Sealing Charm prevented any wearing off of the effects. Thus the effects of the Cambius Potion were usually irreversible. A backward transformation was highly complicated and dangerous, with only a five percent chance of success. Furthermore, the Cambius Potion could have unpleasant side effects on the giver. Provided that he was still alive after the transformation,  the force of the communication could drain him of all magical power and thus made him equal to a Muggle or Squib. The Potion had no effects upon a dead giver. _

_The Cambius Potion has been prohibited since the second International Conference of Warlocks in 1687. _

Severus closed the book. He had been right then. _Provided that he was still alive after the transformation the force of the communication could drain him of all magical power and thus made him equal to a Muggle or Squib. Severus's head was full of questions. Why would James have done it? He had changed Harry into a copy of himself, and in so doing had risked losing his magical powers. It made no sense. Severus had always assessed James to be a bit dim. But even James wouldn't be so stupid as to disregard a warning like that. Had Harry been so important to James? Certainly not! He hadn't even been his own son. And where had James gotten the recipe for a dark potion from? You didn't come by anything concerning dark magic easily. Was it possible that whoever had told him how to brew it hadn't mentioned the side effects? This theory sounded most plausible to Severus. But still-- he would never have believed James Potter to associate with anyone connected with the Dark Arts. _

Severus thought back to his own days as a Death Eater. As he had been the most skilled, he had always been the one who brewed the potions and  he had brewed the Cambius Potion a fair few times. The Dark Lord had mainly used it to replace Death Eaters who had been killed. When a Death Eater was killed in an assault-- which had happened frequently once more and more Aurors had been brought in to fight against Voldemort-- some hairs were taken from him to add to the Cambius Potion. The Dark Lord had then taken a random victim and had forced it to drink the potion. In a few seconds, the victim had changed into a copy of the dead Death Eater—yet as they were at the age of the victim. It had been a very easy way to create new slaves and a far more effective one than a simple Imperius Curse which wore off and had to be renewed regularly. The Cambius Potion was dead sure. The only drawback for Voldemort had been that he couldn't increase the number of his followers that way. He could only replace the dead. Had he used his living servants, they would have lost all their magical power, and wouldn't have been of any use. But this fact had given Voldemort another weapon: the Cambius Potion had been his worst punishment for those who had been unfaithful. He had given the potion containing a hair of an unfaithful Death Eater to a victim, and with the transformation the Death Eater had gradually been drained of all magical powers, forced to live as a Muggle for the rest of his life. The transformed victim had usually been killed afterwards, for the Dark Lord had no use for anyone with a tendency to betray him. For that reason, each Death Eater had been at great pains not to leave anything lying around -- no hair, nothing. A lost hair had represented a great danger for several reasons. Someone might find it and use it in experiments, for instance. It was a popular sport in the time of Voldemort's reign, and most worrisome when a single hair could become your doom. 

All these facts were still hardly known in the wizarding world. Very few people knew that there was something called the Cambius Potion, save Potions experts or dark wizards. Even stranger was that James, of all people, should have known. How had he come to know of it? Severus had the feeling that this question wouldn't be answered quickly. 

Suddenly having reached a decision, he put the book he was still holding back into its shelve. He would go straight to Dumbledore and tell him everything. Dumbledore would know a way to handle the situation. 

~*~

The headmaster's calm voice invited him to come in the very moment he knocked. Apparently he had already been awake too. There had never been a time when Dumbledore hadn't been there when he was needed, and Severus was grateful for that. He entered the circular office with its many pictures of previous headmasters, all looking at him curiously. 

"Severus," Dumbledore said, and there was no mistaking the concern in his voice. "What is it?"

"I need to speak with you."

"Did something happen, Severus?" Dumbledore fixed Severus with his blue gaze. 

"Yes, indeed," Severus said with a somewhat bitter smile. "It is all so absurd, so ludicrous... I don't even know where to start."

"Sit down. And then tell me everything, one thing after the other." Dumbledore waved his wand and a glass filled with some brownish liquid appeared on his desk. "Here, Severus. Drink that. It'll do you good."

Severus seated himself in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk and took a swig from the brown liquid. It was very strong brandy that burned his throat. But soon a pleasant warmth spread over him, loosening the tight knot of doubts and insoluble questions in his stomach. 

"So what's worrying you?" Dumbledore asked from behind his desk, eyeing Severus sternly. Severus suddenly felt like the little schoolboy who had been summoned before the headmaster because he had done something wrong.

"I was in my bed, sleeping, when suddenly a voice woke me. As I turned around I saw Lily standing in my room-- or rather floating. It was her ghost. She told me about a task I had to fulfil: she said she had been instructed to tell me. In this task I am supposed to help Harry Potter fight the Dark Lord. She said that only a true Slytherin could help Harry in this. And we are supposed to find -- what was it called? -- an _Ayrin. I have no idea what this is, I have never heard of it. Apparently it is the only means to destroy the Dark Lord. She wanted to tell me more about it, mentioned some "indications", but the time was over. She was called back. Before she could finish the sentence, she was gone..."_

Severus broke up. It still hurt to talk about Lily. 

Dumbledore, who had so far listened attentively without interruption, spoke. "Lily told you about the Ayrin..." he mused. "Interesting. So the legend does seem to be true." 

"You know about the Ayrin?"

"Well, I have heard of them. So far no one has known whether they really existed or not. There is a legend about them. Alas, I can't remember it entirely. Time flies by and one doesn't get younger. However, I can tell you _something about them. The Ayrin are said to be two emeralds of exceptional power. Salazar Slytherin created them in his days at Hogwarts. Allegedly, he left them somewhere within the school, safely hidden. Another gift for his heir to use in taking over the world, I suppose. As far as I can remember, one of the stones was lost over the centuries... leaving one stone at Hogwarts, then. But I suggest you search for the legend in the library. I'm sure a book can tell you more about it than I."  _

"I shall research it as soon as possible, of course."

"Very good. Have you told young Harry about the task yet?"

"No, I... didn't have the time to tell him yet..." The mere thought of having to tell Harry made Severus shudder. And what he had to tell Harry apart from that...

"He will have to know, of course. But I suggest we find out more about the Ayrin before we take further steps. It would be no good to worry him sooner than necessary."

"Certainly."

A silence followed in which Severus feverishly thought about how to break the rest of the story to Dumbledore. So far he had avoided the subject of his newly revealed heir most carefully.

"Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?" Dumbledore broke the silence and opened the subject himself. 

Severus looked up into those kind blue eyes. 

"Yes... actually... there is quite a lot."

Dumbledore looked at him quizzically. 

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Didn't you wonder why -- _Lily came to __me?"_

"Oh, that." Dumbledore chuckled. "It didn't escape me that you and Lily had... well... something of a soft spot for each other during your school time. Is that possibly a reason for her contacting you?"

Severus was only mildly surprised. Did Dumbledore ever miss _anything that was going on at Hogwarts? _

Sometimes it was almost bothersome how much he knew. 

"That is not everything," he said darkly, anger rising up inside him anew. "Do you know about the Cambius Potion?"

"I have an idea of it, yes, though you are probably better informed on that subject. What about it?"

"Lily told me that James used it on Harry because Harry wasn't his son but mine." The words came out harshly.

Dumbledore rose so abruptly from his chair that he knocked it backwards and it landed with a thud on the floor. 

"What?!"

It was the reaction Severus had intended to give rise to. _There. That's something you didn't know, isn't it? It filled him with a cruel satisfaction that for once he was ahead of Dumbledore, and to a certain extent, it made up for the pain and anger he had experienced in the last two hours. _

"Yes," he said, and he got up from his chair too, his face distorted with rage. "Dear _James __Potter," he spat the name like it was poison, "has mutilated my son. He has made him into the same pathetic and mentally deranged fool that he was. __And he threatened Lily -- to kill her if she didn't agree."_

Dumbledore just stared at him for some seconds. Then he turned and looked out of the window. For a few minutes there was silence again. Severus watched the old wizard and wondered what he would make of this news. Finally, Dumbledore turned away from the window and addressed Severus. He sounded disconcerted and his face looked very grave. "Tell me exactly what Lily said about James."

And so Severus did. There wasn't really much to tell, but Severus tried to remember every little detail of what Lily had mentioned. When he had finished, Dumbledore merely nodded. Once again he said nothing, just paced his office. Then at length he spoke. 

"Unless I am much mistaken, we are confronted with a series of mysterious circumstances. The James I knew-- and certainly the one you knew too-- would never have done a thing like that. Admittedly, he is dead now and can't be confronted about what he has done. But getting to the bottom of this might help us solve some great mysteries of the past and maybe bring some justice into this world."

He paused. Severus was slightly puzzled. 

Then Dumbledore continued, a bit more lightly: "I perfectly understand if you want to clear up your family ties and tell Harry everything. Of course, it is your own personal matter; however, I must warn you not to overtax him." He gave Severus a stern look. "To begin with, he ought to know only those things that are absolutely necessary for him to know. I fear the whole truth at once would shatter his world. It can wait. There's a time and a place for everything."

"Of course, headmaster," Snape said a bit stiffly. "I didn't intend to do otherwise."

"So we are agreed on that. Fine. I ask you to first concentrate on your task, and as soon as you have found out more about it let, me know. We shall discuss then what to do next." Then he added with a smile: "And now I suggest you get some rest and a nice breakfast before you give your lessons."

The conversation was at its end. Dumbledore had a manner of making it very clear when it was time to go that never made it necessary for him to become explicit. 

"Thank you, headmaster."

Severus turned and walked out the door, wondering what this was all about. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: The idea of making Harry Severus' child comes from Katherine aka Star, as well as the idea of letting Lily speak to Sev as a ghost. Big thanks to Star!

The Cambius Potion as well as the Ayrin is an invention of myself. The name Cambius is derived from the Italian word for _to change_. I hope I made it clear enough how it works. If not--- pray email me for further explanation. 

The Ayrin is inspired by Michael Ende's Unendliche Geschichte--- especially the name *cough*--- and Cassandra Claire's Draco Sinister. 

Lots of thanks to the people who reviewed! You know I appreciate it LOADS. So keep reviewing! J 


	3. Crucial Mistakes

**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter Two: Crucial Mistakes _

Severus spent the rest of that week pouring over books, searching for any hint that would bring him a step closer to his aim. But without success. The Ayrin remained a mystery. One of the reasons for that might have been that Severus had preferred to go through his own books first instead of searching the library for some information. The library was always terribly crowded-- in Severus's opinion, anyway-- and he would have welcomed it if he had been spared the heaps of jabbering students around him while he was doing important research. But as it was, he probably wouldn't be able to avoid it. 

Severus heaved a sigh and closed the book he had glanced over. It was no good. He would start searching in the library the next day. Students or no students, he couldn't afford to lose any more time. And come to think of tomorrow-- there was another thing that worried Severus, and very much so, to be perfectly honest. The next day he would be teaching the Slytherin and Gryffindor Fifth Years again. For the first time he would come face to face with Harry after that night six days before. So far, Severus had avoided to run into Harry if at all possible. He had made detours to get into the Great Hall, using passageways that students hardly ever crossed; all week he had taken breakfast extremely early and supper extremely late if he hadn't instructed some house-elf to bring the food directly to his private rooms. It had worked out well: he hadn't crossed Harry a single time, which he had considered as great luck. He didn't know if he could have managed to keep his cool facade in such a meeting. Which made it all the worse that there was no escape from the next day's lesson. The thought made him shudder. He had thought over all the possible ways he could shirk the too-soon confrontation; he had gone through a list of pretexts, starting with feigning to be taken sick and ending with pretending to have received an incredibly important letter from his great aunt demanding his immediate departure from Hogwarts. Finally he had dismissed it all, determinedly deciding that he wasn't a coward and that the stunt he had been pulling all week was truly pathetic. That didn't make it any easier, though.

~*~

Monday didn't proceed well at all. Getting out of bed after a sleepless night, Severus decided to skip breakfast and rather prepare himself for the Potions lesson that was looming ahead of him like some malevolent beast. Food would only render him more queasy than he already was and so he first prepared the ingredients for the potion the students were supposed to brew for that day's lesson; after which, he settled behind his desk, not knowing how to kill the rest of the time. 

So he sat, drumming his fingers on the table and looking at the clock. One hour to go. He had to distract himself somehow or he'd go mad. He got up again, walked over to the book shelf, pulled out a random book without even looking at it, and settled behind the desk again, finally giving it's title a glance. It read, in pink lettering, _The Magical Pleasures of __Love Potions. Severus groaned. That wasn't exactly what he had been intending to read. He must have taken the wrong book. For a moment he considered exchanging it for another one, but then decided against it. At that moment, __any distraction was welcome to him. At least the book would take his thoughts off Harry and the next lesson. A bit reluctantly, he opened it and started reading._

_Love Potions are ancient magic and go back to the experiments of Laetitia the Lovely who..._

The letters became blurred before his eyes. What would it be like to see Harry in front of him? To look at him, knowing that he was his son? The image of Harry appeared before his mind's eye. It was smiling at him. 

Severus shook himself mentally. So much for distraction. He forced his attention back to the book. 

_...lived around 473 B.C., and lured all men within her area to her house to..._

How could he just act like nothing had happened? Nothing would be the same again. 

The questions kept whizzing through his head, and as he realized that he was reading the same paragraph for the fifth time, he angrily snapped the book shut and got up. It was no use. He walked over to the tiny window and stared out of it, not really looking at anything, lost in his thoughts. 

~*~

At eight o'clock sharp he opened the door to the dungeon classroom to let the students in. He tried hard not to look at them too closely, and turning, walked to the back of the room to write the ingredients of that day's potion on the blackboard. He heard the jostling and jabbering crowd of students enter the room behind him, the scraping of chairs... A part of him wished most desperately not to have to turn around and face what he would see in the third row to his left... but reason chastised him. _For God's sake, pull yourself together! it chided. __If you don't even have the guts to face a fifteen year old boy, you might as well jump out of the highest window of the North Tower. It would certainly be more pleasant than what you would expect at the hands of Lord Voldemort for your cowardice. _

The thought of the Dark Lord helped to give Severus new determination. Very slowly, he turned around, letting his gaze wander over the students... and finally stopping at the sight of Harry. _God, this is my son! He felt his stomach twist and his heart wrench painfully. How could this ever have happened! __Why had everything gone so wrong? He could have had a family of his own... But why should he be lucky? he thought bitterly. Fate had never been kindly disposed towards him, after all..._

He woke up from his musings, realizing that he had been staring at Harry far too long already. Harry was looking back at him with a puzzled expression. Severus tore his gaze away from him and addressed the class. 

"Ahem… today you will be brewing the... er--" He turned to look at the blackboard, having completely forgotten what he had planned to make them do. "-- Castellus Potion. It is a simple sleeping potion named after Castellus the Cagey who invented it in the thirteenth century. It is a popular means to--" His voice trailed off as his eyes wandered back to Harry and some sort of daze seemed to settle inside his head. Would he ever be able to tell his son the truth? Would Harry ever be able to take it? He heard suppressed laughter as if from very far away. Severus started. "Erm... where was I?"

The sniggering grew louder. It came from the Slytherins to his right. 

"You were just about to tell us about the use of the Castellus Potion," said Draco Malfoy in his annoying drawl. He wore a very peculiar expression indeed. 

Severus hesitated a second, angry at himself. He was behaving like an idiot! If he went on like that, the class was bound to notice something-- if it hadn't already, that was. And that could be fatal. Several of the students that were present had parents in Voldemort's inner circle. If he aroused their suspicion in any way and they told their parents, he was in very deep trouble. But his mind as well as his eyes kept wandering back to Harry, whether he wanted it or not. 

"Right. The Cambi-- I mean, the Castellus Potion, is used to cure slight insomnia and procures dreamless sleep." He paused, silently cursing himself for the slip. Then he snapped: "All the ingredients you need are written on the blackboard. Spare the Fairy Wings, too many of them will render the Castellus Potion useless. You may start now."

Severus was glad to have gotten through the introduction. Now all he had to do for the rest of the lesson was sit at his desk and have an occasional look at what his students were producing. Gratefully, he sank down into his chair, rubbing his temples. At least he could watch Harry undisturbed now. Everyone was occupied with their potion and wouldn't pay any attention to him. 

He watched Harry pulverising his ingredients and adding them to the potion. Severus tried to imagine what Harry would have been like if he hadn't been forced to drink the Cambius Potion. But he couldn't quite manage to draw a clear picture of him. Pity… Only too gladly would he have liked to see it. 

Well, there _is a possibility, a small voice in his head pointed out slyly. But Severus silenced it determinedly. "No! It's too dangerous."_

A few heads in the first row rose and several pairs of eyes looked at him quizzically. 

"Sorry, Sir?" said Pansy Parkinson. 

Severus started. "W-what?"

"I thought you were saying something."

"I was---?" Had he really been talking aloud? He hadn't even realized it. Christ, where was this leading to? "I didn't say anything," he snapped at her. "Keep your attention on your potion."

Pansy exchanged a look with Draco Malfoy who was sitting next to her. Severus didn't like the expression on their faces at all. It told him quite clearly that suspicions were already forming in their minds. 

About twenty minutes later, Draco called suddenly from his place. "Professor -- could you come here for a second?" 

Reluctantly, Severus got up and walked over to Draco. How he hated always having to help the little sycophant! Always having to give him good marks when the little git was absolutely inept at Potions and presumptuous on top of it. But he couldn't afford to have Lucius Malfoy as his enemy. The Dark Lord thought highly of him. And if his life meant anything to him, he'd play by the rules. 

"Sir, could you please help me? I don't quite get the measure of leech juice and almond flower extract."

"If I remember correctly, I said one third leech juice and one quarter almond flower extract," Severus said, raising an eyebrow. "Surely that is not too difficult for you to understand?"

"Sir, would you mind--?" Draco shoved a vial into Severus's hand, smirking. 

Grudgingly, and with a forced smile, Severus poured the required amount of leech juice into the vial and was just about to add the almond flower extract when someone tapped him on the shoulder. For a split second the mad thought _Harry! crossed his mind. He winced and dropped the vial, which shattered on the floor, spreading leech juice over his shoes. He whirled round-- it was only Blaise Zabini. _

"Can't you pay attention!" he spat. 

Draco and Blaise exchanged meaningful looks. 

"Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something," Blaise said haughtily. 

"Sit down!" Severus snapped at her. "I'll come to you in a moment."

With a sulky expression, Blaise turned on her heel and stalked back to her place in the third row. 

Severus waved his wand irritably and cleared away the broken vial and the spilled leech juice. He was furious at himself for his clumsiness. 

"I suggest you try it yourself then, Mr. Malfoy," he said with just a hint of spite. 

As he turned he heard Malfoy muttering to Pansy Parkinson. Severus hoped most fervently that the lesson would be over soon. At least he didn't have to fear any questions or requests for help from the Gryffindors. They were far too proud -- or frightened -- to ask anything of him. 

Trying hard to focus on the lesson and not to let his mind wander off to Harry, he settled behind his desk again and took a pile of recently marked tests out of the drawer. 

"Before you go, take your tests back," he called to the class, scowling at them. "They have turned out rather badly-- not against my expectations. Each of you who got under five points will hand in an essay on the various sleeping draughts and their differences by next week. And I won't accept anything under two rolls of parchment." That would keep the Gryffindors occupied as they usually got the worst marks. Giving a Slytherin bad marks, especially the child of a Death Eater, was out of the question. 

Severus started calling out the names, and one student after another came forward to fetch their test. 

"... Longbottom... You did very poorly indeed." He shot him a contemptuous look. 

Neville stumbled forward, red-faced. With a trembling hand he took the test. Actually, Severus felt quite sorry for the boy. He knew that Neville had had a hard lot, with his parents in St Mungo's, and if he had had any other choice, he would have spared the boy the humiliation and intimidation. But he _had no other choice. Showing sympathy for the son of an Auror in front of Malfoy and other future Death Eaters would be a deadly mistake. _

"Granger."

As usual, no comment there. The girl was simply annoyingly perfect. 

"P- Potter."

Damn it! Why did he have to stutter! He stared at the table, suddenly very interested in an ink stain on the dark wood, so that he didn't have to watch Harry's approach. When Harry was safely out of his view, he continued: 

"Malfoy."

Malfoy swaggered forward, snatched his test, and looked at the mark. His pale face contorted with anger. 

"Professor, I think you must have made a mistake," he said with forced calm. "It says zero points here." With narrowed eyes, he showed Severus the big zero on his test. 

Severus froze. No... not another slip! Seeing the test, he remembered dimly having marked a test with zero out of pure rage one week ago when he had been supervising Harry's detention. He hadn't looked at the name... 

There was an awkward pause. The class seemed to hold its breath, waiting to hear Snape's answer. Severus could feel everyone's eyes upon him.

"My father won't be pleased about that," Draco hissed for only Severus to hear. He drew himself up to his full height, trying to look threatening. 

Severus's self-control snapped at the sight of that. "No, that's perfectly correct, _Mr. Malfoy," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm afraid your work didn't merit anything better than zero."_

At that moment, the bell rang to announce the end of the lesson. The class pushed towards the door, chatting loudly about what they had just witnessed. Snape had snubbed Malfoy! 

"I will tell my father of this," Draco hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes slits of fury. He turned on his heel and stalked away. 

Severus could have slapped himself. What had gotten into him? Lucius would undoubtedly ask him what he had been thinking of to give his son zero points on an exam. And Draco had been correct: Lucius would not be pleased. Among Death Eaters there were certain rules. And one of them included not stabbing each other in the back. Lucius counted on Severus's leniency towards Draco. It was something like a deal between them. How could he explain his breach? And that Draco would tell his father-- that he was certain of. 

Severus waited for the last student to leave the dungeon, then he buried his face in his hands. He had let his mask slip far too often today. He wouldn't last like that. One lapse could be his doom. And he had been acting too much out of character. If he didn't watch his step from now on-- he didn't dare to finish that thought. 

~*~

Tired and sweaty after an hour of Quidditch practise, Harry entered the library. Since they didn't have any classes that afternoon Harry, Ron and Hermione had arranged to meet there. They were supposed to hand in a project on Animal Transfiguration by the following week, and none of them had started it yet. 

Harry saw his two friends sitting at a table at the very back of the room, talking animatedly over heaps of books. He walked over to them and slumped into a chair. 

"Have you found anything yet?" he asked, slightly out of breath. 

"Why, yes!" said Ron. "I've found this incredibly interesting spell that makes you talk backwards. I've just been considering who to try it on."

Hermione glared at him. "We're still searching," she told Harry. "You can help us." And she dumped a pile of books in front of him.

Heaving a mental sigh, Harry opened the first one and started to scan the pages for anything remotely useful. It was dull, tiring work and the letters soon began to blur in front of his eyes, so exhausted was he from Quidditch practise. 

Not ten minutes later, Ron let out an enthusiastic shout that was instantly silenced by Madam Pince's irritable snap of "Be quiet!"

"Will you look at that!" Ron said as quietly as possible, trying not to laugh his head off and jabbing a finger at the book he had been reading. "That guy actually---"

"Ron!" said Hermione in her McGonagall voice, slamming her book on the table. "Do you care at all to do some schoolwork?"

Madam Pince scowled at them but was too fond of Hermione to say anything more. 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you really want me to answer that question?" he asked scathingly. "You know, not everyone is such a--"

But Harry, whose attention had been caught by something, else interrupted their little argument.

"Look there!" he whispered, elbowing Ron in the side to silence him.

Snape had just entered the library and was now walking along the bookshelves, robes billowing behind him. 

"What is _he doing in here?" Ron asked incredulously. "He __never--"_

"I know," Harry said quickly.

As far as they knew, Snape had never set foot in the library before. Not when any students were present anyway. Snape avoided them where he could. Other teachers walked in and out of the library all the time but never Snape. So it struck them as very odd that Snape suddenly strode past tables crowded with students and disappeared in a section of historical documents. 

They stared even more as he came out from behind the shelves a few minutes later, carrying several heavy volumes, and sat down at a vacant table. 

Harry shot Ron and Hermione a puzzled look. "There's something fishy going on if you ask me. Did you notice how oddly he's been acting lately? Just remember the Potions lesson this morning. He seemed absent-minded and he kept looking at me in such a strange way... I mean, it's nothing unusual if he's looking at me all the time, but normally he only does it in an "if-looks-could-kill" fashion. It was different today..."

"Yes, and did you see how he treated Malfoy?" Hermione remarked. "I could have jumped for joy at that git finally getting what he deserves."

"Do you think Snape's on drugs or something?" Ron mused. 

"I have no idea," said Harry. 

"Maybe he got his potions mixed up and instead of his little morning draught he had a knock-out potion," Ron suggested with a smirk. "It'd serve him right!"

"Honestly, do you really think Snape the Potions Master would mix up his potions?" said Hermione. "I think he has simply had a bad day -- or a good day, rather. Depends on the perspective."

"Or someone might have slipped it to him...!"

"Could you worry about that later? This is really ridiculous! Perhaps you haven't realized it yet, but we were meeting here to do some _school work. Our project is due in precisely seven days. So it would be really nice of you to--"_

"All right, all right," Ron interrupted irritably. "I'm already working, okay?"

They worked in silence, scanning book after book and occasionally taking some notes, but Harry couldn't quite concentrate. His mind kept going back to Snape and his strange behaviour in Potions, especially to the way Snape had looked at him. Harry hadn't been able to fathom the expression in Snape's eyes, but one thing was sure-- there hadn't been the usual hatred and loathing in them. 

Harry looked over at Snape who was still sitting at the table with the pile of books in front of him, and found Snape looking back at him. Their eyes met for a second but the next moment Snape averted his eyes as if ashamed, and leafed through his book again. It was all very odd! Why was Snape avoiding his gaze? Usually, out-staring Snape was more difficult than out-staring a Hippogriff. What had happened to Snape? Why was he acting so strange? 

~*~

"Hmm..." said Dumbledore with a furrowed brow. "And you haven't found anything yet?" He stopped pacing and turned to look at Severus. 

"I'm afraid not," Severus replied tersely, looking out of the window to avoid having to meet the headmaster's gaze. He should have gone straight to the library, as Dumbledore had said. It had been foolish of him not to obey the headmaster immediately. He had lost precious time by doing that. 

Dumbledore gave him a sharp look and folded his arms. "I suppose it would go faster if you had some help, wouldn't it?" he asked hesitantly, watching Severus closely. 

Severus looked up at him. "It might. But you surely don't want to tell anyone else of this?" he said suspiciously.

Dumbledore sat down behind his desk. "No one else apart from the person who must know anyway -- sooner or later."

"You mean Harry?" Severus asked, shifting uncomfortably. "But didn't you say we should wait..."

Dumbledore shook his head. "There is no use in delay. We only lose time. Voldemort is getting stronger every minute. It is time to take some action." There was concern in his eyes. 

"You are right, of course," Severus muttered, clutching the back of the chair in front of him hard. There was no denying that the Dark Lord was already most disconcertingly strong again. 

Dumbledore sighed. "I suggest we get it over with as soon as possible. Would you please go and tell Minerva to bring Harry here? And while she's already here, we might as well tell her too. She is, after all, the head of Harry's house,  and she has a right to know everything concerning her students." 

"Of course, headmaster," said Severus, and he strode to the door obediently without questioning 

anything Dumbledore had ordered him to do. 

"Severus?" Dumbledore suddenly called him back. 

Severus turned around, one hand already on the door knob. "Headmaster?"

"It is all right if Minerva hears of this too, is it not?" Dumbledore asked, giving him a searching look. 

"Certainly," he said briefly. "You are quite right to tell her."

"Fine." Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled in their trademark manner. "I wanted your consent first. This is, after all, a rather personal matter of yours."

"That's quite all right," said Severus, departing. 

Dumbledore stared after him. Poor man! He had suffered so much in his life. Dumbledore knew all about it. Severus had grown up in a family full of dark wizards, and had been abused by both parents and siblings. He had tried to escape the darkness in his life, and for a short time Dumbledore had believed Severus would actually manage it. That had been the time when Severus had found his true love in Lily. 

Dumbledore heaved a sigh. Lily would have managed it. She would have led him to the light. But it had all gone wrong. For some reason they had broken up, and Severus had slipped back even deeper into the Dark Arts. He had simply associated with the wrong people, and they had dragged him along with them, right into Lord Voldemort's inner circle. The young boy Severus had been at that time hadn't even realized what he had submitted to -- until one day, when his mistake had become obvious to him. 

Dumbledore remembered it as though it happened the day before. The young man had stood before him in that very room, robes torn, face scratched, and with dark circles under his eyes. Severus had been so disgusted at himself and tired of his life that he had demanded Dumbledore to call the Dementors immediately so they could perform their Kiss upon him. Instead, Dumbledore had made him spy on Voldemort as punishment. Severus had been useful, very useful, as such. Dumbledore couldn't have gotten a better chance to hear so much about Voldemort's plans. However, Severus had been in constant danger, and sometimes Dumbledore wondered if he hadn't been too hard on him. After all, Severus had so utterly and fervently regretted what he had done as a Death Eater, and his life had become nothing but a constant fight for survival. And at the end of the last term, Dumbledore had asked him to spy on Voldemort again, putting him into the same danger as he had sixteen years before. Did he have the right to do that? Dumbledore wondered. He was genuinely concerned about Severus. Especially now that the poor man was under even more pressure, what with this ominous task and his personal problems with Harry and everything connected with that. 

Dumbledore would have released Severus gladly from the task of spying on Voldemort in order to make his life a little easier. But he couldn't. Severus was indispensable as a spy. They simply couldn't do without him. 

~*~

They marched along the corridors in silence. Professor McGonagall had put a hand on Harry's shoulder and was kneading it, probably to calm herself rather than Harry. Harry had rarely seen her so upset as she had been when she came into the Gryffindor common room to tell him that Dumbledore wanted to see him. It was most alarming. Usually, Professor McGonagall was not that easily upset. But then, most people were rather strained and nervous these days with Voldemort on the rise. Maybe the reason why Dumbledore wanted to see him had something to do with Voldemort? Harry felt the uneasiness spread inside him. Surely nothing serious had happened? 

He ventured a look at Snape who was preceding them with large strides. Snape certainly looked calm enough. What was this about? Why was he being escorted to Dumbledore's office by two teachers? Question after question accumulated inside Harry's head. 

They had reached the entrance to the spiral staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. Harry heard Snape mutter a password and the wall behind the now familiar stone gargoyle slid open. Snape proceeded up the spiral staircase with Harry, who was gently pushed by Professor McGonagall, in his wake. 

Up in the office, Harry was greeted by a gently smiling Dumbledore -- no signs yet of anything severe going on. 

"Why don't you all sit down," Dumbledore said cheerfully, indicating three chairs that were standing in the circular office. "Would any of you like some cake?"

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed, refusing to sit down. "What is this all about? I was so worried!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Snape's lips twist into a smirk. 

"Severus?" Dumbledore addressed Snape, eyebrows raised. "What have you been telling her?"

"He was going on about a crisis meeting," Professor McGonagall said indignantly, her eyes flashing. 

"Anything could have happened!" She eyed Snape angrily. 

Snape remained unmoved. "I merely wanted you to pay this meeting all due respect," he said, a sneer playing around his lips.  

Professor McGonagall snorted, apparently trying in vain to find a response.

Harry couldn't suppress a smile, and he saw that Dumbledore's mouth also twitched suspiciously at the corners. Apparently, Snape and McGonagall were still at loggerheads with each other.

"Well, if you are ready now..." Dumbledore said gently. "Of course you may all remain standing, but there are three chairs -- why don't you sit down?"

Everyone followed this second invitation. Harry and McGonagall sat down in two chairs before Dumbledore's desk, and Snape took a seat against the wall while Dumbledore himself settled into the huge embroidered armchair behind his desk. 

"Well, Harry, Minerva," Dumbledore began, folding his hands before him. "I have summoned you here because of a matter of great importance. It might sound incredible to you, maybe even ludicrous, but I must ask you to take it seriously. In these times we can't afford to regard anything as a mere game; we must believe in our victory over the dark side." He paused and glanced past Harry and Professor McGonagall at Severus. Harry wondered what was coming now. He shot a sideways glance at Professor McGonagall who still looked disgruntled with her lips pressed tightly together. 

Dumbledore turned his gaze back to Harry and Professor McGonagall. "We have received word from a reliable source about a means to destroy Voldemort."

Harry could hear a surprised gasp from Professor McGonagall. 

"This means is a legendary stone of extraordinary power, an emerald called the Ayrin, which was created by Salazar Slytherin and is supposedly hidden at Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on. "So far we have no clue as to where this emerald is, nor how it works. You, Harry," he peered at him sternly over his half-moon glasses, "are destined to fight Voldemort with the Ayrin while Professor Snape has been entrusted with the task of finding it. As yet all his efforts have been unsuccessful, and since we can't afford to lose any time in the battle against Voldemort, I ask you to help Professor Snape with his search for the Ayrin." 

Questions exploded in Harry's head. He was destined to fight Voldemort? How could that possibly be? He was only a boy, after all, whereas Voldemort was one of the greatest wizards in the world. Admittedly, he had defeated him once -- but that had been a mere co-incidence due only to Voldemort's failure to see the power Harry's mother had given to her son by dying for him. But Harry was vulnerable to Voldemort now. The encounter with him at the Triwizard Tournament the year before had proven it. How could he defeat him again?

"B-but Professor," he stuttered. "why should I be the one destined to fight Voldemort?"

"It is what the source has told us. Often they give no reason for the things they say," Dumbledore said, adding apologetically: "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you why." 

"Really, Albus," Professor McGonagall said doubtfully, "do you think this _source, as you call it, is trustworthy? I mean, how can you load such a responsibility on the shoulders of a fifteen-year old boy? How could Harry possibly defeat You-Know-Who? And with an invention of Slytherin himself!"_

"I am absolutely sure that this source is trustworthy, Minerva," said Dumbledore in a voice that would not be contradicted. 

"Well, if you say so," said Professor McGonagall a bit grudgingly. "But I still say that a little boy shouldn't have such a weight to carry."

Dumbledore sighed. "We cannot contradict destiny. It is not in our power to change the future in such a way."

"I suppose you don't want to tell us who or what this source you are speaking of is?" Professor McGonagall asked, her head tilted in curiosity. 

"I'm afraid, Minerva, that I can't. You surely understand..." Dumbledore said apologetically. 

"I thought so," Professor McGonagall grunted, not quite succeeding in concealing her disappointment. 

"Well, Harry – " Dumbledore suddenly addressed Harry, who had been sitting in a kind of daze. "I suggest you arrange with Professor Snape how you shall help in his search. That will be everything for now."

Harry turned around. He had completely forgotten that Snape was there too. How strange that it was Snape, of all people, he should be working with. Why was it Snape's task to find the Ayrin? Why not anyone else's? Harry could think of plenty of people who would have been more apt, and certainly more pleasant to work with. 

"Yes, Professor," Harry mumbled. He was still rather speechless. 

"Very well," said Dumbledore, and he rose to his feet, eyes a-twinkle. Everyone followed suit and got up too. "That's that. If you have any questions or need help, you know where I am. Feel free to call on me," Dumbledore said to Harry, giving him a smile. 

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore," Harry asked, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "Am I allowed to tell my friends Ron and Hermione of this?"

Dumbledore gave him a swift, searching look, then turned to Snape. "What do you think, Severus? You have a large part in this, after all."

Harry turned his gaze towards Snape, who was looking at him sharply. 

After almost a minute of intense scrutiny, as if he wanted to x-ray Harry, Snape deigned to actually speak. "Are they trustworthy?" he asked in a low growl. 

"Of course," Harry answered defiantly. How much of an idiot did Snape think he was? As if he would reveal Dumbledore's secrets to just anyone. But then Snape would probably believe him capable of all the idiocy in the world. 

"Very well," said Snape curtly. "But you take the responsibility."

"I think I can take that, as well as everything else. It won't make much difference anymore, will it?" said Harry angrily, but he instantly regretted it. Dumbledore and McGonagall gave him sharp looks. 

Snape's expression darkened and his eyes narrowed. "Don't think you will get away easily with that insolence of yours," he snarled. 

Dumbledore put an appeasing hand on Snape's arm. "I think we should all go to dinner now," he said, gently pushing Snape out of the door. "I have heard the house-elves have tried out a new variation of gooseberry pudding."

Snape shot Harry one last vicious look and snapped: "Be in my office tomorrow at five o'clock sharp," before he let himself be swept down the spiral staircase. 


	4. Discoveries

**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter Three: Discoveries_

On Tuesday, at three minutes past five o'clock, there was a knock upon the door. Severus looked up from the essays he had been marking. 

"Come in," he snapped. Harry's cheek the day before had pretty much brought him back down to earth. Harry might genetically be his son, but sadly that didn't stop him from being pretentious, troublesome, and insolent. In one word: _James. The truth had never yet changed the facts. _

Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing a moody Harry. Moody because Severus probably wasn't the company he enjoyed and because he had a feeling that this wasn't going to be much fun. 

_Just the embodiment of stubbornness! Severus thought grimly, studying Harry. __I'll cure you of that!_

"Mr Potter," he sneered. "How nice of you to show up. Though, sadly, you don't seem to think much of punctuality. We'll have to change that. I am not going to waste any of my precious time waiting for you. You are three minutes late, so I think we'll make it three points from Gryffindor." He smiled nastily. "Next time it will be two points off Gryffindor for each tardy minute."

Harry remained silent, his lips tight. He had stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe and was staring furiously at the ground. 

Severus gave him an appraising look and folded his hands on the dark wooden desk. "I believe the headmaster has thoroughly acquainted you with what we are going to do?"

Harry grunted something through his clenched teeth that could have passed as a 'yes'.

"Good." Severus leaned closer. "We are going to the library now. We will _not enter together. You will follow me five minutes later and __keep away from me as far as possible. Understand?"_

Severus saw Harry bite his lip as if he wanted to hold back a remark. 

"Have you lost your speech?" Severus said, a threatening tone creeping into his voice. "I believe I asked you if you understand that?"

"I understand perfectly well," Harry said with suppressed anger. 

Severus gave him a piercing stare. "Good. Needless to say that if anyone finds out, you and I will be in very deep trouble. Especially you-- that I'll make sure of."

No reaction came from Harry-- he remained motionless. Severus had to force himself to calm down. The boy that stood before him certainly wasn't the son he'd wished for. He'd gladly taken anyone but Harry. It was a shame that it had to be Potter of all people! 

Severus got up abruptly. "You know what you're supposed to do-- you search in the section of historical documents for anything from Slytherin's time -- that is, everything from a thousand years ago to the present -- and don't forget anything!" he hissed. "You will precede _systematically."_

"I am not stupid!" Harry shouted angrily. 

Severus sneered. "I've had reason to believe the contrary."

Apparently, Harry didn't know what to say to that, so Severus swept past him, giving him a contemptuous look and snarling, "In precisely five minutes you will follow. Wait in one of the corridors." He opened the door and with an impatient gesture he motioned Harry to leave the office. Harry did so with obvious resentment. He shuffled away in the other direction while Severus made for the library. 

Severus snorted in disgust. If it went on like this, a truly nice time lay ahead of him-- a time occupied by a cheeky, stubborn, disgruntled Harry Potter wasting all his energy and driving him mad. What a prospect! And all the inconvenience just because _dear Mr Potter needed his help.  _

~*~

It all began rather well. Harry hid in a deserted corridor, counted five minutes, and entered the library punctually, not wanting to set Snape against him even more. As it were, he would probably have to endure Snape's company for a fair while yet and he didn't want to push it too far. Snape was nasty enough. 

He spotted Snape at a table in the corner, leafing through books and wearing a scowl. Harry sneaked into the historical section, snatched a pile of books that stood on a shelf labelled _11th century, and chose a table at the opposite end of the room from where Snape sat. He was glad he could stay away from him. Snape had even __ordered him to do so. Well, Harry certainly didn't have any objections. _

Scanning the pages of book after book, Harry thought about Snape. Sadly, nothing of Snape's mysterious behaviour from the last Potions lesson had been left. It had been a relief not to have Snape making nasty remarks to him but leaving him alone, for once. But the relief had lasted only one day. Snape was no longer absent-minded, and he saw each tiny flaw again, his look of loathing firmly back in place. It appeared whenever Snape's black eyes secretly flickered towards Harry. What a shame! 

All of a sudden, Harry felt robes brushing him and with a bang the books stacked up on the edge of his table tumbled down. He started and looked up. A black-haired girl was bending down to pick them up again.

"So sorry," she said apologetically, putting the books back on Harry's table. "I must have knocked them down when I went by." She gave him a fleeting smile. 

"Oh..." Harry said a bit awkwardly. "That's quite all right." The books piled back on the table, the girl walked away. Harry stared after her, a bit baffled, and watched her join another student at a table. Harry put the incident out of his mind and went on skimming through his books. 

Harry must have sat in the library for hours and skimmed through a thousand books, judging by the way he felt, but suddenly his stinging eyes read the word _Ayrin on a page full of letters that had become blurred due to all the exhaustion of reading. He jerked awake, seeing a shimmer of hope that he would finally be dismissed for the day. _

Harry thought for a moment. Yes, Snape had said that he should stay as far from him as possible, but somehow he had to let Snape know that he had found something. Waving and making sign language across the room certainly wouldn't be to Snape's taste. So what choice did he have but to walk over? He looked around the room. There were only three other tables occupied. At the one at the back of the library sat three first years; another was occupied by a lone student, probably a seventh year; and the one at the front was taken by the black-haired girl and a boy-- fourth years, Harry guessed. None of them looked as if they were particularly dangerous, and none of them even knew him personally. So why was Snape making such a fuss? He had probably just made it up to put some extra pressure on Harry. That would be just like him! Determinedly, Harry got up, the heavy tome in hand, and made his way towards Snape. 

Snape, immersed in a book, didn't even notice Harry standing behind him. Quietly, Harry cleared his throat. 

"Ahem... Professor?" 

Snape's head jerked upwards. He turned around and seeing Harry, his face contorted in anger. "_What did I tell you?!" he hissed furiously. Even though he was speaking in a mere whisper, his voice was more threatening than ever. "You are NOT to come here!"_

"But I have fou--" Harry began, but Snape cut him off instantly.

"Get out of here!" he commanded. "Take the book with you and wait outside. Away with you!"

Deeply enraged, Harry left the library. Who did Snape think he was! Harry was helping him and all Snape did was bully him! The ungrateful git! If Dumbledore hadn't made the request, Harry would have refused to help Snape. 

In the corridor, Harry slipped behind a column from which he could observe the entrance to the library, and waited for Snape to appear. 

~*~

Inside the library, the black-haired girl nudged her companion. "Do you think that's what he meant?" she whispered. 

"Yeah, I think so," the boy replied, scratching his head. 

"Shall I go?"

"Okay. But be careful he doesn't see you," the boy said. "I'll stay here. We'll meet later to report."

The girl nodded curtly and strolled out of the library, pretending to be occupied with her bag.

~*~

Seething with rage about Harry's carelessness and stupidity, Severus shot out of the library a few minutes later. He could see a corner of Harry's cloak protruding from behind a column before the library door. _Pathetic! he thought contemptuously. __He can't even hide properly. Severus approached Harry -- who didn't pay any attention, as he was occupied with an open seam on the sleeve of his robes -- from behind and put a hand on his shoulder. With a gasp, Harry wheeled around, clutching at his heart. _

"P-professor!" he stuttered. 

"Sshhh!" Severus silenced him and gave him a venomous look. He jerked his head in the direction of the dungeons, grabbed Harry by the arm, and dragged him along. 

Harry could hardly keep up with Snape, so quickly he marched along the deserted corridors. His grip on Harry's arm was painful. Harry was sure it would leave bruises. But all he could do was stumble after him, trying not to trip. He didn't have a clue why Snape was so overly careful. There wasn't a soul there but Snape kept acting as if a hundred Death Eaters were after them. It was rather ridiculous, Harry thought. 

Neither Harry nor Snape took any notice of the black-haired girl that followed them as silently as a shadow...

~*~

Severus headed straight for his office. Once they were inside, they would be able to talk loudly. It wasn't safe outside in the corridors. Anyone could listen to them there and he couldn't take any more risks. He should have known that Potter would muck it all up. That typical Gryffindor "cunning" was coming right through. Not only couldn't Potter have made it more obvious by coming to him and showing him the book -- he could just as well have shouted it out for the whole library to hear -- but the brat could neither hide without being seen (which is actually the purpose of hiding!), nor pay attention. Voldemort himself could have appeared with his whole Death Eater clan and carefree Potter wouldn't have realised it until he had been tied up and thrown into a dungeon. Did the boy ever use his wits?

Severus had watched the people in the library carefully and he had noticed at once that two of them were from Slytherin. He didn't trust them at all. Thanks to Potter, it had been plain to see that he and his Gryffindor student weren't in the library at the same time by chance. And even someone like Crabbe or Goyle wouldn't have missed that. So any possible eavesdropping had to be avoided at all costs. 

As soon as they had reached his office, Severus pushed Harry inside and slammed the door shut. Then he rounded on Harry, his face livid.

"What the devil were you thinking of, coming up to me in the library!" he demanded in a deadly whisper. Harry, finally released from Snape's squeezing grip, massaged his numb arm. 

"Tell me, why do you think I told you not to contact me?" Severus went on, his eyes boring into Harry's. 

Harry, who felt that Snape was expecting an answer, shrugged. "I don't know."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You don't know. Pitiful, Potter! Do you _ever use your mind?" he said, his voice all dangerous softness. _

Silence. Severus folded his arms and approached Harry, coming to a halt a foot away from him. "I had the impression that your encounter with Lord Voldemort at the end of the last term gave you an idea of how strong he has grown. And as you have told us all you have also seen the Death Eaters. Isn't that so?" He stared down his hooked nose at Harry. "Well, I can tell you that the number of the Dark Lord's followers has grown extraordinarily since the last time you saw them. Many of the people who denied having been in his service after his fall have returned now. The number of his servants is tremendous. They are _everywhere. And you know that you are one of Voldemort's priorities, don't you? So if you care to stay alive, you might want to be more careful."_

Harry didn't say a word. He stared at the stone floor, seeming actually a bit remorseful. 

"Well? You wanted to show me something?" Severus said impatiently after a short while. Wordlessly, 

Harry handed him the thick leather-bound book. Severus snatched it, sat down at his desk and began to search for the relevant page. Finally, he found a rather short entry. 

_The Ayrin are said to be two emeralds of the strongest magical power, created by Salazar Slytherin. According to the tale, they are only useful to one of Slytherin's heirs. Allegedly, while one of them was lost during the centuries, the other is still hidden at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Wizards have searched for them without success for centuries and it is commonly assumed that the Ayrin are a mere legend. _

Severus snapped the book shut, and in his eyes was a glint of fury. "That is everything?" he said in a dangerous whisper. "Because of that you blew our cover and brought us into danger? Because of a few lines that don't tell us _anything more than what we already know?" His voice had risen to a shout. He got up again and walked around the desk to where Harry stood. _

Harry shrank back. "Well, I didn't know what you were expecting," he said defensively. 

"Did you even bother to read it?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowed. 

Harry hummed and hawed, neither daring to lie nor to tell the truth. It was true that, in his delight at finally having found something about the Ayrin, he hadn't quite thought about reading the whole article. The mere word Ayrin had brought all his hopes back and he hadn't deliberated much. But it was no use pretending anything. Snape would find out anyway. So he finally said in a very small voice: "No..."

"I thought as much," Severus said dryly, his lips curling into a sneer. "Typical Gryffindor thoughtlessness. Tell a Gryffindor to use his wits and be sure he'll fail miserably." He gave a contemptuous snort and turned away. 

Harry clenched his fists. He was having a hard time not punching Snape on his over-large nose. His teeth were gritted so as not to let slip a nasty remark that would only make the work with Snape more difficult.

"You may go now," Severus snapped and waved an impatient hand at the door. "I will let you know about any further steps we must take. Until then: _keep a low profile!"_

Harry didn't have to be told that twice. He almost ran to the door, heaving an audible sigh of relief, and he had slammed it shut in less than a second. 

Severus stared after him angrily. Couldn't the brat leave the room like a normal person? Gryffindors were all the same! No manners at all! He picked up the book Harry had brought and threw it onto a vacant wooden chair where it landed with a thud. Over a week in the library, and that was all that had come of it. It didn't get them anywhere. He glared at the book as if it had insulted him personally. How could they ever accomplish their task if they didn't even know where to start?

He began to pace the office, hands on his back. The light that fell through the tiny open window was slowly fading and the candle he had lit on his desk was casting ghostly shadows on the dark stone walls. 

He went on pacing, lost in his thoughts, until all at once he heard the beating of wings and sharp talons squeezed into his shoulder.

"Severrrrus!" a croaking voice said.

Severus turned his head to look at the crow that had settled on his shoulder. "Oh, Cara, you're back." He gently stroked the crow's smooth, black feathers.  

"Did you miss me, Severrrrus?" Cara cawed in what could be called a coaxing voice, nibbling at his ear affectionately. 

"You know I always miss you when you're away, but who should run my errands if not you? Did you deliver the letter to Great Aunt Esmeralda?"

"Of course I did," Cara replied indignantly, puffing herself up. "You know that I am rrrreliable." 

Severus smiled. "I have never doubted that."

Cara took on a smug look, if that was possible for a crow. "Much more rrrreliable than those foolish school owls. And much morrrre intelligent," she bragged. "_They can't even talk."_

"Yes, you're the smartest bird I've ever seen," Severus said, fondling the soft feathers of her head which she seemed to enjoy thoroughly. 

"I should think so!" she said, pecking at his finger as if to say: _just don't you forget!_

Severus fell silent, staring off into space and continuing to stroke Cara absent-mindedly while she perched on his shoulder, eyes half-closed. At length, she spoke again. 

"What is worrrrying you?" she asked, eyeing him closely with her head cocked. 

"Oh... you don't know yet, do you? It's been happening while you were away." Severus sighed and sank into a chair. 

"All the interrrresting things happen when I'm not here," Cara complained. "Tell me."

"It all began with the apparition of Lily's ghost one night. She instructed me with a task, and told me a horrible truth..."

Cara beat her wings in excitement. "What is it?"

"I... have a son I never knew of," Severus said hesitantly. "This son is... Harry."

"Harrrry Potter?" Cara asked curiously.

"Yes..."

"But you said that you despise him!" She looked at him inquiringly.

"I did and I still do," Severus said emphatically. 

Cara flew over his head and landed on his other shoulder, still watching him closely. "Why did you never notice he was your son? He must look like you."

"He doesn't." Severus's expression darkened. "He was forced to drink an illegal potion when he was only a baby. This potion made him look like another man—James Potter." He spat out the name like it had a bad taste. 

Cara clicked her beak. "Who forces a baby to drrrrink illegal potions?"

"James." Severus snarled. "I told you, he was Lily's husband. He couldn't bear that Harry wasn't his son. It's all his fault." Severus's face was distorted with fury. Cara nuzzled her head against his cheek as if to calm him. 

"Does Harrrry know?" she cautiously asked. 

"God, no. He mustn't know it. Not yet anyway. But I doubt I will ever tell him." There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice, but Cara noticed. 

"Why not?"

"Because he has every bit of James united with himself, and there's no way to change him back!" Now the bitterness was very apparent. 

"Poor Severrrrus!" Cara cooed into his ear. 

"What?" Severus said irritably, trying to turn his head so far that he could glare at the crow on his shoulder. But that was rather difficult. 

"I can see how much it hurts you," said Cara in a sympathetic tone. 

"Nonsense!" Severus stood up abruptly and shooed her angrily away from his shoulder. With a screech Cara rose into the air, wings beating fast. "I don't care about it," he snapped, turning away. "Besides, there are more pressing matters. I still have to fulfil the task and I'm nowhere near it. I don't even know where to start."

"What task?" Cara cawed curiously, eyeing him from one of the shelves now. 

"There is a legendary emerald hidden at Hogwarts," Severus explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "It is very powerful and it is the only means to destroy the Dark Lord. I am to find this emerald together with Potter." 

"An emerrrrald? Sounds thrrrrilling!" She dared to fly a bit nearer and landed on the desk. 

"Not quite." Severus smiled bitterly. "Its power could destroy the whole world. And imagine this power in the wrong hands." He leaned against the wall wearily. 

"You will save it," Cara cooed confidently. 

"If only it were so easy..." Severus muttered more to himself. "Go to your sleeping place," he told Cara. "I have to work some more."

"You mean you will brrrrrood until the morning?" Cara croaked from the desk, giving him a very stern look. 

"Don't worry, I'll get some sleep too," said Severus, and he had to smile at Cara's concern for him. "Off you go!"

"Good night then, Severrrrus!" With that the crow fluttered out of the open window. Her nest was outside as she didn't like staying inside. Yet each morning (unless she was off making a delivery) she flew in to greet him good morning. Severus was glad to have a friend, even if it was only a crow. Humans usually avoided him. And he could tell Cara everything, knowing that she would handle it with discretion. Cara was the only true friend he had ever had. 

Slowly, Severus walked to the fireplace and looked at the ornate clock on the mantelpiece. It was a few minutes past midnight. There was no use in staying up and deliberating upon his fruitless search. It was also getting cold down in the dungeons, and he was starting to shiver. And yet he had a feeling that he should not go to bed yet. He stared at the empty fireplace. It had not been in use for several years. Actually, he couldn't remember ever having lit a fire in there. He had never needed it, and it kept the students as well as the other teachers away from his office. None of them were very keen on spending time in an ice-cold hole like his dungeon. Severus, however, was glad to have a room where he could be undisturbed and not pestered by visitors. 

Another shiver ran through his body. He wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself. Damn cold it was! He sneezed. Or was he getting soft? 

Suddenly, he heard an angry, spluttering sound and black flames erupted from the grate before him. Startled by the sudden appearance, he took a step backwards. A roll of parchment came flying out of the flames and landed on the stone floor, right before his feet. As soon as the black flames had spat out the object, they diminished again until they had vanished and the grate was empty as before. 

Severus bent down to pick up the roll of parchment. It was sealed by black wax, bearing a coat of arms: a castle and the large letter M. Severus suddenly felt as though he had received a blow in the stomach. He knew this seal. Actually, he had expected the message to come all along. But the fact that it had arrived today of all days made him even more sick than he would usually have felt. This was very bad timing! 

He pulled up the left sleeve of his robes, exposing the Dark Mark. Then he took the rolled-up letter and pressed the seal onto it. The wax seal glowed green and melted, causing the letter to spring open. With loathing, Severus straightened the parchment and read:

_You are cordially invited to a Dark Revel at Malfoy Manor, tomorrow at 10pm. Informal—no masks required. RSVP._

_L. Malfoy_

Severus swallowed the acidic taste that had come to his mouth. So his hopes that this month he wouldn't have to witness the horrors of a Dark Revel were shattered. He should have known better! Lucius would never miss a chance to arrange one. Still the same bloodthirsty pervert! Severus thought with disgust. He rolled up the parchment again and walked to his desk where he scribbled a terse response onto a piece of parchment and sealed it. With his wand he cast the same black flames in the fireplace as Lucius had done, threw the roll of parchment into the fire, and muttered "Malfoy Mansion". The flames crackled and died, taking the roll of parchment with them. 

Severus shuddered at the thought of the Dark Revel. Not only did he loathe the monthly torture of having to join in Lucius's sick idea of a feast, he also had his own personal reasons to fear the encounter with Lucius. Just how much did Lucius know about what he was doing right now? What had Draco told his father, and how much would Lucius guess? There was Draco's failed test... How should he explain? 

With sudden rage blazing up, he flung Lucius's letter back into the grate, took his wand out of his sleeve and set the letter afire. He watched the flames licking at the parchment, illuminating the fireplace with its odd carvings. Apart from ancient runes and a snake that wound its way upwards on each side, there were lots of ugly, smirking faces that looked like they belonged to demons. In the glow of the fire, they looked very eerie. 

In his frustration, Severus slammed a hand into the face of a particularly nasty-looking stone demon protruding below the mantelpiece. To his surprise, the face slid backwards into the wall. Instantly, a loud scraping noise followed. Severus spun around. Trying to make out the source of the noise, he saw that a bit further away one of the large square stones that formed the walls of the dungeon had also slid back, leaving a hole in the wall. 

With bated breath, Severus approached it. He must have triggered a mechanism when he hit the stone face. Cautiously, he peered into the black hole. By the faint light from the candle on the desk (the fire in the fireplace had been reduced to glowing ash by then, he could see something that looked like a stack of parchment lying within. 

"Lumos," Severus muttered, illuminating the gap with his wand. The hole seemed to be a secret hiding-place, about two feet deep, and it contained indeed nothing but a stack of parchment. Gingerly, Severus took out the sheets and laid them on his desk. They seemed to be very old, judging by the yellowed, brittle pages. 

Severus sat down and drew the candle closer to read the tiny writing. The black ink was already faded to a hardly legible grey, and the script was so curly it was difficult to make out the words. He squinted and tried to decipher the date at the top of the first sheet. It read: _10 September 1012. Severus gasped and read on, his heart beating fast. _

_The Goblins have paid their debt in emeralds to me and I have decided to use two of the emeralds in my experiments. I was delighted by how well they melted in blue-black fire. Ten minutes of intense heat, and they had turned into a green liquid: an excellent condition to absorb all types of ingredients. First, I took a small amount of powdered salsify and mixed it in the molten emeralds. It was remarkable that the emeralds didn't change colour, when salsify usually darkens any substance it is mixed with. I then proceeded to add a few drops of nightshade acid..._

It went on like that for several sheets of parchment. The author had elaborately described magical experiments he had made using the emeralds. Severus read it all in a feverish haste, scarcely able to believe what the descriptions told him. It was incredible! – more than he had ever hoped to find! He had found Salazar Slytherin's notes on how he had created the Ayrin. The parchments would solve all the mysteries woven around it. Severus could have laughed out loud. The solution to all their problems! He read on and on, absorbing every bit of information, even though he couldn't follow the complex magical process and the pages spoke of magical ingredients and incantations he had never even heard of before. It went on for over ten more sheets, from September 11th to October 28th , until the last page read:

_29 October 1012_

_It is finished. After one and a half month it is finally finished. With an everlasting Freezing Charm, I returned the emeralds to their original state. I will call them Ayrin. Ayrin, after the demon whose spirit gave life to the stones. It is fascinating to see the sparkle of life within them, to have created a new kind of power that obeys its rightful master. I am holding the greatest power on earth in my hands now, a power that could enslave all beings on this planet, or shatter the world and eliminate all life. Yet I will not be the bearer of this power. One day my rightful heir will hold the emeralds in his hands as I do now, and he will bend the world to his will and make it a place solely for those worthy of living in it. Hidden within my chambers, the Ayrin will wait for the day of victory. The heir will know how to find them. The signs will lead his way. And no one, no one else but my heir will be able to take them. My plan has succeeded — down to the smallest detail. Only a person able to speak Parseltongue will be able to touch the Ayrin. I have put it to the test. I have had one of my students touch them, and he burned his fingers. I made certain that only a Parseltongue will be able to understand the signs that lead him to the Ayrin, and it takes real Slytherin cunning to work them out. So no one unworthy would be able to abuse the power of the Ayrin. Of course, the Ayrin can unfold their maximum of power only when borne together and anyone too weak to control the power within would eventually..._

Here the last page ended. Feverishly, Severus turned over all the others, searching for the page that had to follow. But there was none. The next page, which may have contained all the vital information they needed, was not there. He groaned in desperation. They had finally found a source that would tell them everything they needed to know, and the possibly most important bit was missing. Lost. Gone. _Not There. Severus's initial delight was reduced to a frustration beyond expression. All the dangerous side effects, all the lethal drawbacks, were probably on that missing sheet. What if Potter suddenly dropped dead because he was too weak? That would be exactly the thing he would trust Harry to do. Potter was happy as long as he could cause trouble-- even if he didn't have any influence on it this time. Well, at least Potter would have done that for the longest time then! Severus thought viciously, trying to feel indifferent about Harry's lot -- but failing. Even though he still disliked Harry, he certainly didn't want him dead. And unless he was much mistaken, there would have followed a serious warning on the next page-- if the page had been there. Still they had no clue on how to find that wretched emerald, and that was  probably on the missing page too, Severus thought grimly. _

Yet there had been _some useful information. At least he would be able to avoid burning his fingers now, he thought with a wry smile. And what was more important –  he knew that the Ayrin was hidden in Slytherin's chambers. That meant the dungeons. And in all probability, Slytherin's private rooms had been there as well (No one had ever been sure where they had been). The secret space in the wall suggested as much. That confined the search to a few rooms. The discovery of the Ayrin couldn't be far away and with it, Voldemort's defeat._

But the thought of Voldemort gave Severus another idea, and not a pleasant one at all. What if Voldemort-- as Slytherin's "rightful" heir-- knew of the Ayrin? What if he was already searching for it too?


	5. The Trap

A/N: I'm sorry, but I had to change the chaptering again. Now it will stay that way, though. I promise. All chapters are corrected, by the way. So any typos and other mistakes should be eliminated now.

This chapter is influenced by Riley's Pawn To Queen and Firecross's An Exercise In Cruelty. 

Warning! This chapter contains violence and excessive loss of blood!

**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter Four: The Trap_

It was evening and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, discussing the current situation. Harry had had to tell Ron and Hermione what he had found out about the Ayrin over and over again and he was already tired of being constantly reminded of Snape's telling-off the day before. 

"Harry," said Hermione, "please tell me once more what exactly you read in that book. I've got a feeling that I'm close to something but I can't tell what it is."

Harry groaned. "Look, I've told you at least twenty times already," he said in an exasperated tone. Hermione gave him a _look. "All right," he sighed. "But if you ask one more time, I'm going to write it down and you can spend the rest of the day pouring over it." He leaned a bit closer to Hermione and Ron to make sure no one could overhear him. "I read that: a) they are -- big surprise-- powerful magical objects; b) at least one of the two emeralds is still hidden at Hogwarts; and c) they are only useful to the heir of Slytherin, whatever that means."_

"Wait a moment, Harry," Hermione said, and her face suddenly lit up. "You say that the Ayrin are only useful to Slytherin's heir?"

"So I have for the twentieth time now," replied Harry, annoyed.

"But you are not Slytherin's heir. You're not in the slightest way related to Slytherin, are you?" Hermione went on eagerly. "I think we might have another clue."

Ron and Harry looked at her, dumbfounded. 

"Another clue?" said Ron doubtfully. "The only clue I can get out of that is that we can chuck it all in because Harry is not Slytherin's heir."

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione said in her know-it-all-voice. "Just think for a moment. Of course Harry wouldn't be able to use the Ayrin if he didn't have anything _in common with Slytherin's heir." She looked at the two boys intently. "And what is it that everyone knows Harry has in common with Voldemort, Slytherin's last heir?" _

Ron shrugged. "They have an equally high number of newspaper articles written about them?" 

"Hey!" Harry protested, elbowing the sniggering Ron in the side, and looking at him in mock indignation. "I bet I have more articles."

Hermione glared. "No, I was not talking about newspaper articles. Harry and Voldemort are the only living people known to speak _Parseltongue. That's what's required to use the Ayrin if I'm not much mistaken. And that's why Harry is the only person who can use them against Voldemort."_

Harry and Ron stared. "You are brilliant, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "That's it."

"But why should they be only useful to Parseltongues?" Ron said, still not entirely convinced. "Do you think those emeralds whisper instructions in your ear in Parsel? Like, 'Now hit him in the left eye, that's his weak point'?" 

"I have no idea," said Hermione pensively. "It might be just the quality that counts."

At that moment Oliver Wood interrupted their conversation. "Hey, Harry," he called. "make yourself ready for Quidditch practice, will you? The team meets in ten minutes on the Quidditch field." 

Harry nodded at Oliver and sighed. "Well, I'll be off for Quidditch then," he said to Ron and Hermione. "Oliver will probably have us practicing until midnight again. You know that the match against Ravenclaw is tomorrow." He got up, heading for the staircase to the boys' dormitory.

"Can we come and watch?" asked Ron, getting up after him.

"Want to watch me falling off my broomstick with exhaustion, do you?" Harry grinned. "You can at least bring a mattress to catch me, then."

Ten minutes later, Harry was up in the air on his broomstick, zooming across the Quidditch pitch, while Ron and Hermione sat watching from the stands. Oliver Wood, who was team captain again since he had to repeat a year, was making them work hard; but Harry couldn't quite concentrate on the game. His mind was elsewhere. The Ayrin and the task he had to fulfil kept nagging him. Why was it always him? Why did everything happen to him? Hermione had been right when she had said in their forth year that everything did happen to him. But sometimes Harry would have been glad to get a break from all his adventures. Not that he didn't enjoy them in a way, but too much was too much. 

He heard a Bludger whistle by, an inch from his left ear, and was brought back to reality. For the moment at least. He noticed that Oliver was shouting at him from a few feet away. "... do you think you're here for? The Snitch was right above your head! Keep your mind on the game, goddammit! We are playing Ravenclaw tomorrow! I'll have your head off if you don't catch that Snitch!"

So Harry made an effort and tried to concentrate on the game. It wasn't easy when you didn't really have anything to distract you from your thoughts. He looked out for the Snitch but couldn't spot it anywhere, and soon a daze came over him again and he got lost in thoughts, the match forgotten.

~*~

Severus was in his small bedroom, preparing to leave. God knew, he would have done anything if he could have avoided going to Lucius Malfoy's Dark Revel, but he didn't have a choice. He had to keep the cover, even though he knew deep within that it was probably only a matter of time until Voldemort and the Death Eaters figured out what he really was: a spy. Severus had a feeling that the Dark Lord had never really believed his excuses for threatening Quirrell. He had told Voldemort that he had thought Quirrell had wanted the stone for himself and that he had had no idea that Quirrell had actually been working for the Dark Lord. With an amused smile and the words 'May your loyalty never waver again', Voldemort had readmitted Severus into the fold. But Severus knew better than to underestimate the Dark Lord. He would not be fooled, and one day Severus's hour would come. He hoped it would not be too soon. 

Since this train of thought didn't generally improve his mood, he ignored it determinedly most of the time. As a spy in Voldemort's inner circle you couldn't afford to be afraid -- not if you wanted to stay alive. 

Severus put on his dark travelling cloak and fastened the clasp. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Twenty past ten. He was late. He grabbed his wand and, shoving it into his sleeve, he hurried out, along the corridors, and slipped through the heavy oak doors in the entrance hall. 

The grounds outside were slick and muddy and rain was falling from the night sky in heavy drops. Severus slid on the wet grass as he hurried across the grounds, cursing under his breath. He threw his hood over his head and gathered his cloak tightly around him to block out the cold. 

As he passed Hagrid's cabin, a huge shadow suddenly came out of the door, swinging a bucket and whistling merrily. Hagrid. Severus shrank back into the shadows of the wall, praying that Hagrid hadn't seen him. As soon as Hagrid had disappeared from sight, he hurried on, past Hagrid's cabin and into the Forbidden Forest. Rainwater was dripping from the high trees and the hollow sound of the drops hitting the layer of dead leaves on the ground made the forest even eerier than it usually was. White mist was rising from the ground and made it impossible to see further than a few metres. 

Severus drew his cloak still tighter around him, peering nervously through the walls of trees on either side. The Forest was not safe at that time of the day. Actually it was never safe, but especially not at night. In the distance he could hear the howling of a wolf and others responding. 

Severus sped up, stumbling through the undergrowth and tripping over roots. A few steps further, he could see the magical borderline that marked the end of the Hogwarts grounds. As soon as he had reached it, he disapparated without a backwards glance.

~*~

After what must have been aeons, Oliver Wood finally blew his whistle and motioned for the team to follow him to the ground. He had indeed made them practice almost until midnight. Harry was grateful for the rain that had grown stronger and stronger until it was impossible to go on playing. Otherwise he might have been up in the air on his broomstick until morning. 

He pointed the handle of his broom downwards and slowly circled to the ground where a sopping wet and angry Oliver Wood awaited him. 

"What's up with you?" he asked heatedly. "I don't know how many times I've seen that Snitch near you and you haven't. I'm telling you, if you don't catch the Snitch tomorrow--"

"I'm sorry, Oliver," Harry interrupted wearily. "I know I wasn't in best form, but I'll be better tomorrow."

"I bloody well hope so," Oliver grumbled. "Well, better get some dry clothes on. You'll catch cold."

With Ron and Hermione by his side, Harry hurried after the other team members across the dark, slippery grounds and into the entrance hall. Glad to finally be where it was warm and dry, he pushed his wet hair out of his face and started to go up the marble staircase, when a clock chimed midnight. The deep, heavy strokes reverberated through the moonlight-streaked corridors, creating an eerie atmosphere. When the last echo of the twelfth stroke had died away, he heard it. A faint whispering. 

_When the full-moon joins Mars on the reddish tinged sky,_

_Follow its beam where it crosses the sign._

_Once the clock has struck twelve, then behold!_

_From the depths the powers of hell will unfold _

_To help their true Master to thrive_

_And kill those unworthy of life._

Harry stopped dead, looking around. Who had said those words? There was no one apart from himself and Ron and Hermione, who had already reached the end of the stairs. He couldn't imagine where those words had come from. They seemed to have been everywhere, like a huge echo. 

"Ron! Hermione!" he shouted, unable to keep the uneasiness out of his voice.

They turned around, looking puzzled. "What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly. 

"Didn't... didn't you just hear that?" Harry spluttered. 

"Hear what?"

"Well, that voice," said Harry.

"Voice?" said Ron in confusion. "I didn't hear a voice."

Hermione had descended the stairs again and was now standing next to Harry. "You heard a voice? What sort of voice?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't know. It was just a whisper."

"Could it have been like the one you heard in our second year?"

He hesitated. "Yeah... sort of. How did you...? Oh...! You mean did the voice spoke in Parseltongue?"

Hermione nodded. "What did it say, Harry? It could be important."

"It spoke in rhymes – " Harry tried to remember. "And it said something about the full moon and Mars and the powers of hell killing those who are unworthy."

"That's cheerful," said Ron. "Know what? That sounds awfully like Slytherin stuff. Better get out of here."

"No, Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "It does sound like it's got something to do with Slytherin and that's why it's important. The Ayrin, remember?" She turned towards Harry. "You know that you have to tell someone, don't you?"

"I guess I have," said Harry, looking miserable. "But I won't like it much. Because it's Snape I have to tell and I bet he's still mightily hacked off at me."

"Rather you than me," said Ron with sympathy. "Do you want us to come with you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, go to the common room. I'll go and see Snape alone. I had better go immediately and get it over with. I bet I'll be catching up with you sooner than we all think because Snape will probably chuck me out after five minutes." He grimaced. "See you later!" And he headed towards the dungeons. 

"Good luck, Harry!" Ron called after him before he went in the other direction with Hermione. 

Harry could hear their footsteps dying away while he descended the stone steps leading steadily downwards. It grew colder and Harry shivered. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Snape so soon again. 

When he had reached the familiar door that led to Snape's office, Harry knocked hesitantly and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again, more forcefully this time, and listened intently for any sound that might come from inside. Again, no answer. 

Harry tried the door but it was locked. Maybe Snape was already in bed? Harry wondered. He went to the adjoining door which was the one to Snape's private rooms. Harry really wasn't very keen on enraging Snape by disturbing him in his beauty sleep, but he didn't have much of a choice, did he?

He knocked, yet without success. Was Snape sleeping so soundly? Harry considered briefly letting his wand end explode -- maybe that was loud enough to wake Snape up -- but he dismissed the idea. He didn't want to wake up the whole castle. 

Instead, he gave it one last try. He turned the doorknob and pushed gingerly. The door went noiselessly open. Hesitantly, Harry stepped into the pitch-dark room. It was not at all like Snape to leave the door to his private rooms unlocked. 

"Lumos," Harry muttered and let his wand beam glide across the room. He had never been in there before. Harry supposed Snape would rather kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt than let any of the students into his bedroom. 

In the faint light of his wand, Harry could make out an enormous, carved wardrobe on the opposite wall; a small table with a comfortable-looking armchair; and an ornate four-poster with green velvet hangings and a worn-out, grey bedside rug. The hangings of the four-poster were drawn back and it was empty. 

_Now what? Harry wondered. Obviously Snape wasn't there. Should he go up to the common room and wait until the next morning? But then Snape might have another fit of rage because Harry had waited so long. He heaved a sigh. Basically, he could do anything and Snape would always find a reason to be mad at him. _

Then Harry remembered that the door had been left unlocked. Snape probably hadn't gone far and would be back in a few minutes. He resolved to wait for him. 

The bone-chilling cold of the room made Harry shiver, especially because he was still in his sopping wet Quidditch robes. Drawing his cloak more tightly around him, he wondered how Snape could stay in this room for more than five minutes without getting a head cold. 

He started to pace the room to keep himself warm. As he passed the fireplace he stopped. Surely Snape wouldn't mind...? _Of course he will! Harry thought__. But I might as well make him happy! He's always happy when he can complain about me, isn't he? _

He pointed his wand at the empty fireplace and muttered, "_Incendio!" _

Flames erupted inside the grate, plunging the room into a soft orange light, and immediately, a lovely warmth spread across the room. 

_That's better, Harry thought contentedly. He let his gaze wander over the sparsely furnished room. It didn't seem that Snape spent much time there. In fact, the room looked more like an uninhabited hotel room than anyone's bedroom. There were no personal belongings whatsoever. No pictures, no books, no socks lying around. The place was strangely bleak and uninviting. __Just like Snape, Harry thought grimly. He resisted the urge to look into Snape's wardrobe. The idea of getting caught by Snape while looking at his underwear wasn't very appealing. _

Soon sleepiness overcame Harry. He moved the high-backed armchair in front of the fireplace and slumped into it. It was soft and squashy and extremely comfortable and before he could do anything about it, he had fallen asleep.

~*~

Severus's feet hit gravel and his blurred vision cleared, revealing the picture of a dark castle. Menacing and ill-boding, it loomed before him. Two towers on either side of it stabbed the sky like fingers raised in warning. No light was to be seen in the windows from where he stood, which made the castle look gloomy and lifeless. Thick walls of black stone greeted the visitor with the unequivocal message: Watch out! 

Severus walked through the park he had apparated into, approaching the castle. The trees on either side looked dead and crippled, and weeds proliferated everywhere on the ground. The whole estate was just a sight of decay and death. Rotten like its inhabitants, Severus thought. 

His footsteps on the gravel path sounded strangely loud and echoed in the absolute silence that hovered over the place. He ascended the worn-out stone steps that led to the portal. They were flanked by two columns, each bearing a statue of a creature that looked like a cross between a dog and a dragon. 

Severus knocked on the heavy wooden door with an iron doorknocker in the shape of a winding serpent. The bang tore the silence around him like thunder. He winced involuntarily. 

Slowly, the door creaked open and a house-elf poked its head around it, looking at him with frightened eyes. Severus could see that it was shaking uncontrollably. A sickening feeling began to spread inside him. 

"Follow me, please," the house-elf said in a trembling voice, motioning for Severus to come inside. It led the way across a spacious and very badly lit entrance hall, through a side door and down some stone steps that led to the dungeons. 

Severus could hear faint laughter and sounds of pleasure mixed with muffled screams from a room up ahead. He noticed that the house-elf had put its hands over its large ears. 

"This room, Sir!" the house-elf squeaked in abject terror, pointing to a door to the right a bit further down the corridor. "Please don't make Gudgy go inside again!" it pleaded. The elf's eyes were wide with horror. 

"You may go," Severus said with mounting trepidation. In a flash, the house-elf had fled up the stairs again, clearly wanting to put as much distance as possible between the room and itself. 

Severus slowly approached the room from which he could still hear the most nauseating noises, and with enormous willpower he brought himself to push open the door. 

The scene was sickening. The floor of the vast dungeon was splattered with blood. In the torchlight Severus could see black figures crouching over the bodies of dead Muggles that were scattered all across the room. He assumed they were dead because the screaming he had heard a few moments before had stopped. But a number of living Muggles were still tied up and gagged in one corner, waiting for their horrible end. A stench of blood and sweat filled the air and Severus felt a wave of nausea surge up inside him. 

"Severus!" said a voice right beside him. Severus winced at the unexpected address and turned towards the speaker. It was Lucius. "So glad you could make it," he drawled.

"So am I," Severus lied, wrenching his features into a smile. "I see you are all enjoying yourselves." 

"Yes. I hope _you'll be enjoying yourself too," Lucius said with a slight sneer. _

Severus raised an eyebrow. "If you are suggesting that I should join your necrophilic activities... you know that I have never been fond of them." 

"Oh, but we have living Muggles too. Unless Nott and Avery haven't yet used them all up, that is." Lucius gave him a searching look. "But I remember. You have always been a spoilsport, haven't you?" he sneered. Severus didn't like the look he was giving him at all. It was furtive and... somehow unnerving. He dreaded that Lucius might speak of him failing Draco at any moment. But Lucius said nothing of the sort. 

"Why don't you... sit down?" Lucius suggested with a smirk. He motioned him to precede to a long table on one side of the room which was laden with food. 

Severus stepped over a prone body from which blood was still trickling and crossed the room to the table, where he sat cautiously down on a chair. Malfoy, who had followed, sat down next to him, still smirking. What the hell gave the creep such satisfaction? Severus's eyes darted around the room in search of anything unusual. Lucius might well have set some trap for him in revenge for failing his son. But he couldn't find anything. 

"Help yourself!" Malfoy said pleasantly, indicating the many dishes on the table. Reluctantly, Severus spooned a bit of some indefinable mash onto a plate, but he didn't touch any of it. Not only was he so sickened by the scenario around him that the mere thought of food brought him close to retching, but it was also anything but safe to trust Lucius. The food might be poisoned. He wouldn't be Lucius's first victim. Lucius considered this as a kind of joke. Of course, Severus had taken some basic antidotes with him-- just in case-- but there were too many different poisons. If it had been possible, Severus would have taken every single antidote before he came, but it was not advisable to take the antidote without having imbibed the poison. 

Just then, someone sat heavily down next to Severus and patted him on the back.

"Hey, Sev, ol' fella!" Nott said in a thick voice that suggested he was already drunk. Blood was spattered over the front of his robes. "Long time no see."

Severus glowered. He hated being called 'Sev' and Nott knew that very well. "Apparently such a long time that you seem to have forgotten my reply to being called 'Sev'," he said acidly. "Or is it just that the alcohol has wiped out the memory of my hexes?"

"Now, Sev," Nott grinned broadly. "We're friends, aren't we? No need to overreact." He turned towards Malfoy. "Lucius, Avery was asking if we could untie another one?" He jerked his head in the direction of the trembling Muggles that were huddled in the corner. 

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "_Avery was asking?" _

Nott gave him some sort of sheepish grin that made him look even more stupid than he usually did. 

"All right. But just one," Lucius drawled. "You know they have to last all night. If I don't stop you, the night will be only half gone and we'll have none of them left. We can't have that. And don't forget... there's still the _surprise." The corners of Lucius's mouth twitched as if he were trying to suppress a smirk. _

"The sur... oh... the surprise!" Nott gave Severus a fleeting sideways glance and sniggered. Severus thought it sounded a bit fake and he didn't like the look of things at all. It almost seemed as if they had plotted something against him. He was starting to get genuinely worried.

" A surprise?" he inquired, careful not to let his worry show. 

"Yes," Malfoy replied with a supercilious air. "I have a little surprise for you. For all of you." 

"And what is this surprise about?" Severus asked suspiciously. 

"Well," Lucius sneered. "If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore, would it?" He gave Nott a sign with a nod of his head. 

"Come, Sev," Nott said on cue. "Let's drink to our friendship. Here, have some brandy." He shoved a glass into Severus's hand. Did they want to get him drunk? Severus wondered. He noticed with a turn of his stomach that the glass in his hand was sticky with blood. But Nott had already touched his glass to Severus's, and he had no choice but to drink. Severus only sipped at the liquid and put the glass quickly down again. 

"And now, old friend," Nott said with a hiccup, laying a heavy hand on Severus's shoulder. "Let's have a chat with those Muggles and Mudbloods, eh?" 

"No, thanks," Severus sneered and disgustedly shoved Nott's hand from his shoulder. "You know I was never one to rape Muggles."

"Still the old spoilsport, I see," Nott smirked. "You should come and see Avery, though. He's been missing you." 

"I thought Avery was far too occupied with inspecting corpses?" Severus said dryly, but nonetheless he forced himself to get up and follow Nott to the back of the room. 

There, blood was spread even more excessively across the floor. Severus counted six corpses and over one of them Avery was cowering. He really didn't want to know what Avery was doing with it. 

"Oy, Avery!" Nott called. "Look who's come." 

Avery abandoned the corpse and looked up. "Snape!" he grinned, getting up. "How nice of you to let yourself be seen." He took Severus's hand and shook it. Avery's grip was strangely slippery, and when he let go, Severus saw that his own hand was smeared with blood as well. 

"Yes, really great to see you again," Severus replied with a rigid smile, looking for something he could wipe his hands on. 

"Lucius said we can untie another one," Nott told Avery with a wink. Avery's face lit up with a horrible smile. "I suggest Sev here should help us," Nott added. 

"Yes, he should," Avery confirmed with a sideways glance at Severus. "You haven't indulged in quite a long time, Snape." 

"You know that I never cared to join in your twisted sense of amusement," Severus said with disgust. His eyes fell on the corpse Avery had been crouching over before, and he quickly looked away again. It wasn't a pleasant sight. 

"You weren't like that in the old days, Snape," Avery said, throwing him a sharp look. "Remember? You used to have fun with those Muggles just like us. What is it, Snape? You didn't get _scruples, did you?" He gave a derisive laugh. _

Severus grabbed Avery by the front of his bloodstained robes. "Did you just say _scruples?" he hissed at the startled Death Eater. "Maybe your question would be best answered by the demonstration of some nice hexes on your own body?" _

"I never questioned _that, old boy," Avery choked, giving a fake laugh. _

Severus wiped his blood-smeared hand on Avery's robes and let go of him with a disgusted snort. "I hope you will never do it again," he said in a threatening tone. 

"But why don't you just demonstrate it on one of these Mudbloods?" Avery demanded. Now that he was out of Severus's grip, his courage seemed to have returned. "It would surely eliminate the doubt in all of us." His eyes were narrowed and he stared at Severus insolently. 

Nott, meanwhile, had dragged one of the tied-up victims over to them. The woman's eyes were wide with horror. 

"Well, Severus?" said a cold, scornful voice behind him. Lucius had joined them. "Untie her."

He didn't really have a choice. Most of the eyes in the room were on him now, and all were expectant. Severus mentally cursed himself for having come. Then again, he had known that he couldn't get out of it forever. Sooner or later the Death Eaters were bound to notice something. He had promised Dumbledore never to do it again. And he had made the same promise to himself. But it was inevitable now. 

Slowly, he undid the gag and then the ropes that were binding the woman. He hesitated. She stood before him in a dirty, torn dress, sobbing silently, and her eyes were pleading mutely. A tight knot formed suddenly in Severus's stomach. _He couldn't do that..._

"Well?" sneered Malfoy's ice-cold voice behind him. "Do you need help?" Malfoy must have nodded to Avery, because the latter stepped forward, grabbed the woman's dress at the neckline, and tore it apart. 

The woman gave a choked scream. She was standing completely naked in front of Severus. Someone gave him a shove and he stumbled forward. 

_Oh, God! I am so sorry! _

With a slightly trembling hand he reached out and touched her shoulder. The woman was shaking and her fearful eyes were still pleading desperately. He ran his hand down her spine. It all felt so familiar. The soft skin under his hands, the pleading eyes, the choked sobs... 

And then his vision blurred and other women appeared before his eyes. Women he had raped. Tortured. Killed. Their eyes were pleading for mercy. Desperate, haunted eyes. He could hear sobbing, imploring voices and his own harsh laughter that mocked their despair. A screaming started. A screaming in pain and desperation. Then one voice detached itself from the others. _No, Severus! Don't! Save yourself! I won't let you die for me! Lily's voice. It grew louder and louder, filling his ears, threatening to split his head... _

"No!"

The word rang shrilly through the silence around him. The Death Eaters were staring at him. For a moment no one moved. Severus noticed that he was clutching at his head. Slowly, he lowered his hands, then turned on his heel, heading for the door. 

Rage was coursing through him, mostly at his own foolish behaviour. How could he have slipped up like that? What had called up all those old memories? 

"Wait, Severus!" Malfoy's sneering voice called from behind. "You don't want to miss the surprise." 

Severus stopped and turned around. "Your surprise can't be so important that it can't wait," he snapped. "You'll excuse me, I have a headache." 

"Oh, but this surprise will please you, Severus," Lucius said with a smile. "I'm sure it will. And it would be such a pity if you missed it." He approached Severus, put a friendly arm around his shoulders, and gently pushed him towards a side-door. "In fact, I think it is already the right time," he added, "for our _special guest."_

Special guest? Severus had a terrible premonition...

Lucius opened the door and held it open for the Death Eaters to enter, Severus among the last to do so. With his heart in his mouth, he tried to see through the mass of Death Eaters. And with a jolt he realised that his suspicions had been correct. In the centre of the room stood...

Voldemort.

His red, merciless stare raking each of his followers, the Dark Lord loomed threateningly in his horrible majesty while the Death Eaters stood queued up to kiss the hem of his robes. At that moment, Severus knew that it had all been planned. Every little detail of the night's happenings. They had set him a trap. All of the other Death Eaters had known the Dark Lord would attend the revel, only he had been left in ignorance. He could see it in their faces: they showed no surprise at all. 

Malfoy had purposely made him believe that Voldemort wouldn't be present, so that he should weight himself in false security. By adding the word 'informal' to the invitation, which usually indicated a private revel among friends without the Dark Lord, Malfoy had deceived him and had made sure he would meet Voldemort unprepared. 

So this was Malfoy's revenge. He had told Voldemort every little detail he had heard from his wretched son about Severus, and had cut off every way for him to prepare an excuse, probably in the hope that Severus would get into a tangle with his lies when faced with the Dark Lord. He should have known Lucius would play him false. What else could you expect from a Malfoy? 

Severus noticed that his hesitation had made him the last in line to venerate the Dark Lord. Heart pounding painfully against his ribcage, he forced himself to move forward. 

Would the Dark Lord punish him? He couldn't think of one single excuse that would justify his treatment of Draco, nor his behaviour back in the celebration room. 

The distance from the door to the Dark Lord seemed the longest he had ever walked in his entire life. Seconds felt like minutes, inches like metres. He was acutely aware of every movement he made, of each step he took. His knees felt strangely wobbly and for one horrible second he thought he would lose his footing and fall to the floor. 

Then, finally, he came to a halt in front of the Dark Lord. Severus kept his eyes downcast, unable to look Voldemort in the face. He could almost feel those red eyes of purest evil scrutinizing him intently. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees and with a trembling hand he reached for the hem of the Dark Lord's robes to kiss. Severus felt a wave of nausea well up inside him as his lips touched the dark material.

For years he had tainted his honour, his life, his soul by paying reverence to those accursed robes. But now, feeling the extent of the sacrilege he was committing by doing so, he could hardly restrain his revulsion. 

"Severus," the Dark Lord said in a low hiss, "how nice to see you. I hope the revel my _faithful servant Lucius has organised pleases you?" Severus could hear the cold amusement in the Dark Lord's voice. _

"Yes, my Lord," he said weakly, facing the Dark Lord's boots. 

"I'm glad to hear it," the Dark Lord said. "However, I have heard some unpleasant things about you, Severus. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Severus hesitated. He didn't know just how much the Dark Lord knew. So he lied. "No." 

"No?" Voldemort said in mock surprise. "Then I shall have to spell it out for you." He paused and started to pace in a circle around the kneeling Severus. "Lucius here has told me that you have been compromising him by behaving very ungenerously towards his son. Is that true?" The Dark Lord stopped in his pacing. "_Look at me!"_

Obediently, Severus raised his head and met the Dark Lord's hideous red stare. He swallowed hard. "Master, I considered it as my duty in my teaching position," he replied in a steady voice. 

"So?" the Dark Lord said, and his red stare bore inexorably into Severus's eyes. "You give priority to the rules of that Muggle-loving fool Dumbledore and you think a faithful member of the fold deserves to be compromised?"

"My Lord, I---" Snape began to deny it but Voldemort cut him off.

"Silence!" The hiss was blood curdling. "That is not everything," he continued. Severus's heart missed a beat. What else did the Dark Lord know? Surely not...

"Witnesses have seen you behaving most suspiciously." The Dark Lord had resumed his pacing. "It almost seems as if you are unfaithful to me... You are seen extraordinarily often in the presence of Harry Potter. _Not during your pitiful lessons. And it seems that you have been plotting something to __defy me. __Is that true?" Each syllable sounded as if it was cut out of ice, making Severus's blood run cold. The Dark Lord's snake-like face was a mask of fury. He was looming over Severus, his red eyes flaming like fire. _

Severus remained silent. Anyone in their right mind would probably have denied all the accusations immediately, but Severus didn't have the strength to do so. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as those inhuman red eyes continued to rake his face. 

Then, abruptly, the Dark Lord grabbed Severus by the hair and jerked his head backwards so that he was facing the ceiling. Severus bit back a yelp of pain. 

"_I asked you if that is true!" the Dark Lord repeated, each word a thunderclap. His reptilian face was a mere inch away from Severus's, and Severus could feel the hot, contaminated breath of the Dark Lord on his face. He tasted acid in his mouth and had a sudden urge to vomit. _

"No," he choked, gritting his teeth as the Dark Lord continued to pull at his hair. There was a faint rustling sound, and without having to look, Severus knew what it meant. Voldemort had his wand. What would he do? What would his punishment be? Severus dreaded what was coming. The cold tip of Voldemort's wand touched his temple. 

"You disappoint me, Severus," Voldemort whispered in a low, threatening hiss. He began to run the tip of his wand down the side of Severus's cheek and neck, in a way that mimicked a lover's gesture, while he still held Severus's head back with his other hand. "You have such a beautiful mind, Severus. Sharp and cunning. It would be a shame if anything happened to it." 

Severus felt fear clutching his chest like a giant iron claw, making him gasp for breath. What did the Dark Lord mean by that?

"Be warned!" The tip of the wand stabbed into the side of Severus's neck and he groaned involuntarily. "If I hear about any unfaithful behaviour on your side again... you shall rue the day you were born. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus groaned out. The grip on his hair was released and the wand tip was removed from his neck. Severus brought his head back into its normal position and looked up at the Dark Lord. Voldemort stood impassively before him. 

"You won't be punished today..." the Dark Lord said, twirling his wand between his white, spidery fingers. 

"Thank you, my Lord," Severus gasped, relief flooding him. "I don't deserve your mercy." He crawled a few inches towards the Dark Lord, still on his knees, and kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes once again. 

"Yes, I think so too," the Dark Lord purred, caressing his wand. "That's why I think a little reminder is due. So you don't forget..."

Severus stopped dead. Like a punch, fear hit him again. He could hear the dull throbbing of his blood in his ears. Which curse? There was only one to be considered and the thought of it made his blood run cold. The one curse feared most among the Death Eaters... Severus had experienced it a few times, and yet each time the pain had hit him with such force that it damned all the inferior memories of the experiences before. 

The Dark Lord's robes rustled as he pointed his wand at Severus with an almost idle gesture. Severus's muscles were painfully tensed as he awaited the blow. And then the single horrible word fell. It was a mere whisper, but it rang in Severus's ears as if it had been bellowed.

"_Crucio!"_


	6. The Ayrin

**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter Five: The Ayrin_

Harry must have fallen asleep, because a rattle on the door made him jerk awake. Before him he could see ashes glowing faintly in a grate; otherwise, impenetrable darkness surrounded him. It took him a while to remember where he was and what had happened. Nervously, he peered in the general direction of where he presumed the door stood. Someone or something had bumped against it. He heard the doorknob being turned abruptly and the door opened, letting in a faint shimmer of moonlight that poured in through a window in the corridor. Harry could make out a tall shadow standing in silhouette against the bluish light. 

"Luminosus," the shadow muttered and bright light flooded the room. The sudden brightness stung Harry's eyes which were not adjusted to the light and he covered them with his hand. The person that had entered the room gave a small gasp of surprise and Harry removed his hand. The newcomer still stood in the door frame, and Harry jumped about a foot into the air. 

It was Snape. But that wasn't what gave Harry such alarm. Snape looked so horrible that Harry had barely recognised him. 

His robes were torn and splattered with blood. Blood was oozing from countless scratches and cuts upon his face, of which the left side seemed to be bruised as it had turned a bluish violet. His hair, too, was encrusted with dried blood. But the most frightening thing about him were his eyes. They were blood-shot and seemed empty, pained, and haunted.  

Harry had always thought that he wouldn't care a jot if the worst thing imaginable happened to Snape. Now he found that he had been wrong. Despite his great dislike for Snape, he couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

 "Wh-what happened to you?" Harry spluttered.

"None of your business," Snape muttered wearily. In his current state, it seemed, he didn't have the strength to force his usual venom into the words. 

He made a step forward and swayed dangerously on the spot. Fearing that Snape might faint, Harry jumped up. "Sit down, will you?" he said anxiously, indicating the armchair. 

Snape stumbled forward and was seized by a fit of coughing that shook his whole body and forced up more blood. He clasped the back of the armchair convulsively to steady himself. Harry was really beginning to get scared. What on earth had happened to Snape? 

"I-I'll go and fetch Madam Pomfrey, shall I?" he asked in a trembling voice. 

"No!" Snape managed to choke out between hacking coughs. "Go to Dumbledore."

Harry dashed off. Within a few minutes, he stood in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Fortunately the password had not changed since the last time he had been there and Harry was able to climb the spiral staircase to the office. But as he climbed, a fear suddenly hit him. What if Dumbledore wasn't in his office? It was the dead of night, and Harry had no idea where Dumbledore's private chambers might be. 

Out of breath, Harry arrived at the top of the stairs and knocked at the door. Nothing happened. 

_I don't seem to have much luck with knocking at doors lately, he thought bitterly. With determination, he banged his fists against it, shouting "Professor Dumbledore!" at the top of his voice. _

A few seconds later, he heard a key being turned in the lock and the door swung open to reveal Dumbledore. The headmaster was wearing a long, pink night-shirt and a pointed, white night-cap ending in a bobble. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Harry would have had a hard time not laughing. 

Dumbledore looked alarmed. "Harry! What is it?" 

Harry was enormously relieved that he was no longer alone with the burden of the horribly mangled and nearly suffocating Snape. "Professor, it's Snape! You've got to come!" Dumbledore didn't ask any questions but followed Harry immediately. 

When they arrived at Snape's rooms, Snape's coughing seemed to have abated. He sat slumped down in the armchair with his eyes closed, looking horribly ill. Dumbledore knelt at Snape's side. "Severus," he said softly, "What happened?"

Harry could hear Snape's uneven, ragged breathing. "Well," he said with an effort, his eyes still closed, "he found out."

"Who?" asked Dumbledore sharply.

"The Dark Lord." Snape opened his eyes, and tried to get up. 

"Don't, Severus," said Dumbledore, putting a hand on Snape's shoulder to prevent him from doing so. 

Snape shook his head. "I need to take a potion."

"I can give it to you."

"You wouldn't find the right one." He made another effort to stand up, and getting to his feet, he stumbled across the room to the wardrobe where he took a vial from a drawer inside. When he opened the vial and took a gulp, Harry noticed that Snape's hands were shaking. He couldn't quite believe that this miserable-looking man was the cruel, sarcastic Potions teacher he saw every week. 

Snape put the vial back into the wardrobe and went back to sit in the armchair, where Dumbledore was still kneeling. Now the headmaster continued his questioning. "I'm sorry, Severus, but you must tell me what happened. Where were you tonight?"

"At a Dark Revel at Malfoy Manor," Snape replied, his voice still weak. 

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "A Dark Revel!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I didn't want to worry you, Headmaster," Snape answered and passed a hand over his tired face. Taking a closer look at his hand, Harry noticed with a lurch of his stomach that there was also dried blood under his fingernails. Did that mean that Snape had scratched _himself?_

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "What nonsense, Severus," he said softly, as if he were speaking to a child. "You know you can always come to me." 

For a few moments Snape didn't reply. He merely stared into the empty grate, lost in thought. "They know, Headmaster," he finally said. "They know that I've been working with Potter." He cast a resigned look at Harry. "The Dark Lord has useful spies," he added bitterly. 

Harry felt a twinge of guilt. _This is my fault, he thought, remembering what had happened in the library. __Whatever they've done to him, it's my fault. I wasn't careful enough. _

"They set me a trap," Snape went on. "Lucius had made me believe the Dark Lord wouldn't be present and reserved him for a nasty surprise at the end of the evening. I wasn't prepared. The Dark Lord must have seen right through me."

Dumbledore looked genuinely worried, even more so than before if that were possible. "How did Voldemort react?"

Snape's potion seemed to be showing some effect. He didn't look quite as exhausted as before. "Well, take a nice long look at me and you'll know," he said with a bitter smile.

"He set you under the Cruciatus Curse?" 

Snape nodded mutely. 

Harry felt his insides lurch. The Cruciatus Curse! How long did you have to suffer it to look as horrible as Snape did? he wondered. He remembered his own experience with the curse vividly. Even though the Cruciatus Curse Voldemort had set on him last year could only have lasted a few seconds, it had felt like an eternity -- an eternity of nothing but pain. And yet there hadn't been any mark on _him afterwards. _

"What did he say?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes fixed on Snape with an unreadable expression.

"He gave me a serious warning," Snape elaborated, thoughtfully. "I think he never quite believed the story I was telling him about my behaviour towards Quirrell. He's been suspicious since the day I came back. Tonight the Dark Lord as good as told me that if I make one more flaw, I will spend the rest of my life in the Insanity Ward of St Mungo's."

Dumbledore drew in a sharp breath. "Be careful, Severus!"

"I'm trying to."

Dumbledore just looked at him for a moment, his eyes full of concern. "And now let me fix up your face," he said at length. "You can't appear in front of your students like that tomorrow." He took out his wand and began to touch the bleeding cuts on Snape's skin, murmuring some incantations. One after another, the cuts vanished. 

"You had better get that bruise looked at by Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said once he was done with the cuts. "It looks bad."

"Yes, he's good at kicking, the Dark Lord," Snape said with a crooked smile.

"I've got the impression you are already feeling better." Dumbledore smiled. "I suggest Harry and I leave you alone now so that you can rest."

Harry, who had been watching the scene from where he stood against the wall, slowly followed Dumbledore towards the door, when Snape suddenly called sharply, "Potter?" 

Harry turned around, looking quizzically at Snape. "Yes?"

Snape had narrowed his eyes and was looking at him suspiciously. "What the devil were you doing in my bedroom?" he snapped. Obviously he had much recovered from his maltreatment, for his bad mood seemed firmly back in place. 

With everything that had happened Harry had completely forgotten why he had come to Snape's room in the first place. "I... wanted to talk to you, Professor," he replied.

Snape raised an eyebrow. 

"When I came from Quidditch practice tonight," Harry said, "and the clock had just struck midnight, I heard a whispering in the Entrance Hall. The voice said something about the full moon and the powers of hell, I can't recall everything. Anyway, Ron and Hermione didn't hear anything at all, so we reckon that the voice was speaking in Parseltongue. You know that I can understand it." He looked quizzically at Dumbledore and Snape who were looking at each other with an odd expression. "I thought I'd better come straight to you, Professor," Harry added. "It might have something to do with the task."

"The sign!" Snape muttered, still staring at Dumbledore. "Do you think...?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly, a smile on his face. "Indeed! Who would have thought it." He then turned to Harry who was very puzzled indeed. "Harry, there's something you don't know yet. Last night Professor Snape made an extraordinary discovery. He found the ancient notes on how the Ayrin were created, the notes made by Salazar Slytherin himself. Not only did he record how these emeralds were created, he also mentioned to what purpose. They were intended to help Slytherin's heir seize world domination. Slytherin also used some tricks to make sure they wouldn't fall into the wrong hands. One of them, apparently, was that the signs leading to the hiding-place of the Ayrin could only be heard by a Parselmouth. Of course, Slytherin would never have dreamed that anyone but a descendant of his would be able to speak Parseltongue. The fact that you've heard these words tonight only proves my theory. Now the only thing you have to do is to remember the exact words."

Harry had listened to this explanation with growing amazement. It was a stroke of luck that they had come by so much information. But now his face fell. He could by no means recall the exact words he had heard. "I'm sorry, Professor," he said miserably, "but I can't remember. The only thing I know is that that voice mentioned the full-moon and the powers of hell and killing the unworthy. That's all."

"Don't worry, Harry," Dumbledore assured him with a smile. "We can give you a Memory Potion. Severus, do you have one at hand?" 

Snape thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Would you kindly bring it here?" 

Snape staggered out of the room and into the adjoining office. After a few moments he returned with a vial of blue, sparkling liquid.

"The Memory Potion will make you remember every detail you have perceived during the last twelve hours," Dumbledore explained. "Three drops should suffice, Severus," he added.

Snape took a spoon and trickled three drops of the blue liquid onto it. Then he handed the spoon to Harry. "Drink," he said tersely. 

Obediently, Harry put the spoon in his mouth and swallowed. The potion burned in his throat like fire. For a moment his vision blurred, then it grew sharp and clear again, along with his mind. Nothing of his earlier drowsiness remained. 

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, fixing him with his steely gaze, "tell us exactly what happened after you left the Quidditch pitch."

Of its own accord, Harry's mind reeled back to the moment he stepped out of the gate to the Quidditch field. He could see everything with extreme sharpness, as if everything that he had seen had been observed with his natural, impaired eyesight and now he had got his glasses back. He started to describe what he witnessed. 

"It is raining hard. The ground is slippery. I'm hurrying up the slope towards the castle with Ron and Hermione. We're late because Oliver Wood has given me a talking-to. The other team members are already inside the castle. Oliver has stayed behind to clear up and to put the balls back into the trunk. We have entered the castle and are starting to walk up the stairs -- I hear a faint whispering. I can't see anyone who might be saying those words, they seem to come from the walls all around. The words are: _When the full moon joins Mars on the reddish tinged sky, Follow its beam where it crosses the sign. Once the clock has struck twelve, then behold! From the depths the powers of hell will unfold To help their true Master to thrive And kill those unworthy of life. I call Ron and Hermione. They haven't heard the whispering. Ron is nervous, he wants to go away. Hermione thinks the words could have to do with the Ayrin. We agree that I should go straight to Professor Snape." Harry stopped. He felt the effect of the potion abate and leave a great weariness in its wake, as if the potion had drained him of a lot of energy. He looked up at Dumbledore and Snape. Dumbledore stared thoughtfully into space while Snape scribbled something at his desk. _

At length, Dumbledore spoke. "The first step is now to find out when we have the next full-moon and whether there's anything exceptional about Mars at that time. Maybe you could go to Professor Sinistra and ask her, Severus, if you feel strong enough. She should be awake."

"I'll go." Snape nodded curtly and hurried out of the room.

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "It was a stroke of luck that you were inside the castle at the right time," he said. "A moment too late and we would have missed it. And who knows if we would ever have been able to find the Ayrin then. Now we have new hope."

"But Professor," said Harry, "do you understand the meaning of these hints? Because they make no real sense to me."

"Alas," sighed Dumbledore, "I fear I understand them no better than you do. They are a riddle. I hope Professor Snape can help us, he knows Slytherin House better than anyone else. Maybe he can make sense of it. If not..." Dumbledore didn't continue his sentence, instead he was staring off into space again. Harry had a feeling that if they didn't find the Ayrin, the consequences would be devastating. Dumbledore had rarely looked so worried. They remained silent for a few minutes, Harry shifting uneasily. 

Finally they heard quick footsteps in the corridor outside. Snape was coming back. When he pushed open the door, a look of grim satisfaction was on his face. "Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow is the next full-moon and Mars is exceptionally bright. Sinistra said that Mars hasn't been so bright in a decade, and won't be again for another ten years."

Dumbledore was wearing his penetrating gaze again. "That gives us one advantage and one disadvantage," he said. "The advantage is, we can act quickly and won't lose time in the battle against Voldemort. The disadvantage is, however, that we have less than twenty-four hours to work out all the clues." He paused gravely. "Severus, you know Slytherin House best of all of us, and if anyone should be able to work out those clues, it's you. I must ask you for your help again."

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape said politely. 

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, Severus. And if all goes well, you and Harry will be able to find the Ayrin by midnight. I wish you luck."

Snape inclined his head as a sign of gratitude. 

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "It's been a long night and I suggest we all go to bed now. We might need our strength tomorrow. Especially young Harry." He smiled. "I believe you have a Quidditch match?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Good night, Severus," Dumbledore called over his shoulder, ushering Harry out of the room.

"Good night, Headmaster."

~*~

Contrary to Dumbledore's suggestion, Severus did not go to bed. The potion he had taken earlier was still having a wakening effect on him. Besides, he feared the nightmares he would certainly have after the night that had passed, as soon as sleep came over him. A strong Sleeping Potion could certainly procure dreamless sleep, but Severus was careful with them. They were addictive with regular use. 

He would have liked someone to talk to now, but Cara, his pet crow, was probably fast asleep on a tree outside. So to occupy his mind and keep it from dwelling on the horrid experiences of the night, he took the notes he had made on Harry's recollections and began to work them out. 

He was used to this. In his days as a Death Eater, he had never been able to sleep after an attack or a Dark Revel. Or rather, he had tried to keep himself from sleeping with all his might. For in his sleep he was helplessly doomed to all those haunting visions that were capable of driving him to madness. Hence he had avoided sleep until the point of total exhaustion, plunging into his work with an obsession born of desperation. Often, he had passed two or three days without sleeping at all. Such abuse of his own body was beginning to show. 

When he finally looked up from his work to glance at the clock, it was already four in the morning and a large part of the riddle was still a mystery to him. Just what was meant by the line: _Follow its beam where it crosses the sign? It seemed to be the indication where the Ayrin was hidden. But which sign? The word 'sign' could mean anything. And was 'beam' referring to a beam of moonlight? The beams of the moon covered a pretty large area, even if it was reduced to Hogwarts. Sighing, Severus rubbed his stinging eyes. He probably needed to check every single room with so much as a crack through which moonlight could penetrate. It was going to be a hard task and time was working against them. _

~*~

Apart from a quick visit he paid Madam Pomfrey because of his bruise, Severus spent the whole morning searching the rooms in the west wing of the castle for any special 'signs'. As Sinistra had told him, the moon would rise in the west that night and so only those rooms that had any openings to the west were to be considered. It was a tedious business nonetheless. So far he had discovered eighteen tapestries bearing what could be called a 'sign', as well as thirty-four coats of arms and about sixty carvings in various walls, each and every one of them perfectly accessible to moonlight. And he hadn't covered floors one, two, three or seven yet. 

Aside from that, he had made two other interesting discoveries on the fourth and sixth floor. One was a chamber that was empty save for a large amount of laundry hung on a line for drying, including dozens of long underpants and a forget-me-not blue robe that looked suspiciously like Dumbledore's. The other discovery was a large room full of chamber pots. Was that possibly the one Dumbledore was always telling of in such a wistful voice because he couldn't find it anymore? Severus made a mental note to ask him some day. 

He was just about to take a break and sit down in a cosy little room with light-green hangings and furniture made of ebony, when something tugged at the hem of his robes. It was one of the Hogwarts house-elves. It wore the usual tea towel, emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest and tied like a toga, and it was staring up at him with big, violet eyes. 

"Please, Professor," it squeaked, "Professor Dumbledore sends Racy. You must come to his office immediately."

"Did the headmaster say what he wants to see me about?" Severus asked with a frown.

"No, Professor," said the house-elf. "He just says: Racy, find Professor Snape and tell him to come to my office. And that's what Racy does. But there is a man in his office, Professor."

"A man? Who is it?" he asked. He suddenly felt an uneasiness he couldn't explain.

"Racy knows not," the house-elf said. "Racy must go now and help preparing dinner." And in a flash, Racy was out the door. 

Reluctantly, Severus dragged his feet towards Dumbledore's office. What did Dumbledore want now? Severus was in a rather bad mood already. While he had to search dozens of rooms for peculiar signs, Potter was indulging in Quidditch. The brat should be busy saving the world and not playing games! 

Five minutes later, Severus was standing before the door to Dumbledore's office. Before he could knock, Dumbledore had already opened it. 

"Ah, Severus!" he said. "We've been waiting for you." He stepped aside, and, with an inviting gesture, motioned for Severus to come in. As Severus did so, he saw the man the house-elf had mentioned. He was wearing a long black travelling-cloak and was sitting in one of the chairs before Dumbledore's desk, with his back to the door. As Severus approached, he turned. Severus stopped dead. It was Sirius Black. 

"What is he doing here?" Snape demanded in a low snarl, his narrowed eyes venomously fixed on Sirius who looked back at him with an insolent grin plastered across his face. 

"He is here to help you and Harry in your task," Dumbledore replied gently. 

Severus whirled around in fury. "He _what?"_

He could hear Dumbledore give an exasperated sigh. "We need all the help we can get in the fight against Voldemort, and Sirius is the only person I can spare at the moment." Dumbledore's voice was still gentle but it had a serious undertone that would not be contradicted. Severus, however, did not care about that in his rage. How dare Dumbledore let Black take part in _his business! Black of all people! It was enough that Severus had to work with Potter. But Lily hadn't said anything about Black getting involved!_

"I will not work with him!" Severus snapped, indicating Sirius with a jerk of his head. 

"Yes, you will!" Dumbledore said and there was suddenly a sharp edge to his voice. "We had this discussion before, and I will not tolerate enmity between my supporters in the battle against Voldemort. If we don't stand united against all evil, we will fall apart and evil will eventually triumph over good. Is that what you want, Severus? I thought you of all people knew how desperately we need help. I thought you would be the last to underestimate that evil. Are your petty grudges really worth the risk of failing?"

Severus remained silent. He stared furiously out of the window, lips pressed tightly together. 

"I have made the two of you shake hands," Dumbledore continued after a pause. "I will do it again if necessary."

Severus's fists were clenched so tightly that he could feel his fingernails digging painfully into his palms. He was still staring out the window in rage. At the edge of the Forbidden Forest he could see Hagrid's cabin. He concentrated hard on the small, wooden house, mentally flinging all his hatred towards it. If he hadn't done that, he might not have been able to keep himself from grabbing Sirius by the throat and throttling him.  

At length, Dumbledore broke the awkward silence. "You may both go now," he said, not without giving each of them a final stern look. Both Sirius and Severus hastened to the door, glad to finally be released from Dumbledore's watchful eyes and-- what was more important-- each other's presence, so that they nearly collided in front of it. For a moment they looked daggers at each other, then squeezed through. 

After Sirius had closed the door behind him, he turned to Severus. "You know, Snape," he said, "I'm not particularly charmed to work with you either. But I thought a massive git like you really isn't worth all the effort of arguing with Dumbledore. Just don't interpret my silence back in the office the wrong way."

Severus shot him a poisonous look. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and stalked away. 

~*~

Sirius was waiting in the room that had been prepared for him. It was on the seventh floor, right under the roof, situated in a part of the castle no one usually entered. Dumbledore had selected this room as it was still dangerous for Sirius to show himself in public. As long as Sirius stayed at Hogwarts he was safe, however. 

The room was a bit draughty. Obviously all the rooms you could live undisturbed in were dilapidated. But still, it was neatly done with its green hangings and fluffy carpets, and Sirius was quite content with it. Apart from the fact that he detested green-- it reminded him of the Slytherins. But it was the thought that counted, after all. 

A knock on the door woke him from his reverie. The house-elf he had instructed to bring Harry to him had returned with his godson. 

"Sirius!" Harry cried and ran to him. "You're here! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I returned from my journey to Ireland only this morning. There was no time to let you know by owl, I was too busy recruiting followers for Dumbledore. Most of the centaurs have agreed to help, should it come to a great battle between us and Voldemort, and I believe I may also persuade some goblins and dwarves. But what about you? I see you've been playing Quidditch?" he said, looking at Harry's Quidditch robes.

"Yes," said Harry, smiling broadly. "We just had the match against Ravenclaw. Gryffindor won by ten points."

"Congratulations!" Sirius smiled, patting him on the back. "If you go on like that, you'll make Charlie Weasley jealous."

"Oh, Charlie's far better than me," said Harry. "I saw him play last summer. No one can compete with him that easily."

"I've got some more good news for you," Sirius said mysteriously.

"Really?" said Harry curiously. "What is it?"

"Sit down." Sirius indicated the free space on the bed next to him. Harry obediently did as he was told, eyeing his godfather expectantly. 

"I'm proud to inform you that you are allowed to spend a -- so far -- unlimited amount of time with me," he announced with an air as if Harry had won the first prize in a contest.

"Is that true?" Harry grinned, his eyes shining. 

Sirius nodded.

"That's fantastic!" Harry exclaimed. Then his face fell as he remembered. "But... I won't have much time."

"Well," Sirius went on, "this morning Dumbledore told me everything that has happened during the last few weeks. About this task you have to fulfil with..." he made a wry face, "..._Snape."_

"Dumbledore's told you about it?" Harry said, surprised. "But I thought it was top secret?"

"It _is top secret," Sirius confirmed. "But obviously Dumbledore found it necessary to give you some more support-- no wonder, you just can't trust Snape, can you?-- and so he asked me whether I wanted to help you. Of course I accepted immediately. I can't leave you alone with that git, can I?"_

"That's wonderful, Sirius!" Harry cried. "I already feared that I had to spend the next weeks only with Snape. That would have been awful!"

"Don't worry," said Sirius, and there was a glint in his eyes. "If that slimy git puts one toe out of line, then--" he finished the sentence by motioning with his hands as if washing them. "In my school-days I found that Snape is the ideal punching bag. The cursing was sometimes a bit bothersome, that's true", he added. "But other than that..."

"You've beaten up Snape?" Harry asked, incredulously.

"Oh, yes. More than once." Sirius nodded. "The vicious, deceitful snake didn't deserve anything better. All the time he was spying on us, trying to get us expelled."

Harry couldn't help grinning at the image of Sirius beating up Snape. Then, unbidden, the memory of the night before came to his mind: the memory of the horribly mangled and broken Snape, and he instantly stopped grinning. 

"Is something wrong?" Sirius asked. "You look a bit dejected."

"No," Harry said quickly, "I'm fine." He changed the subject before Sirius could say more. "So what are we going to do next? Has Dumbledore told you anything?"

Sirius frowned slightly at Harry's answer but didn't say anything about it. "Well, first you've got to find that emerald. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to join you there. Dumbledore obviously thinks it wouldn't be very wise for me to roam the school at night. Someone might see and recognise me. As soon as we've got the Ayrin, we'll find out where Voldemort is located, which shouldn't be too difficult-- Snape ought to know his own second home-- and then... we'll fight Voldemort."

"How?"

"That's Snape's department, I'm afraid. I can't tell you much about it."

"Does Snape already know about you?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes, he knows," Sirius said with a smirk on his lips. "And he kicked up a nice row, too, the idiot! But in the end all his sulking was in vain. I bet he's now in his dungeon, whining into his potions!"

~*~

Severus was, in fact, not whining into his potions. After he had snapped at Professor Vector and had taken fifty points off Gryffindor because he caught Neville Longbottom sneaking out of the school kitchen, his fury had diminished to a bearable degree and he had been able to pour over the notes he had made on the various signs he had come across that morning. They still didn't make sense to him. There were so many of them, it was impossible to cover them all. Slytherin must have meant a particular sign. A sign that was obvious. Even the heir of Slytherin couldn't split himself into several beings to observe sixty-eight different rooms. But Slytherin didn't have a sign of his own unless you counted... _the Slytherin House crest. _

Severus clapped a hand to his forehead. All of a sudden it seemed the most obvious thing in the world. It _had to be the Slytherin House crest. It was the only thing that made sense. Why hadn't he realised it before? All those hours he had wasted searching those dratted rooms for signs! _

But which crest? Several dungeons were adorned with tapestries that bore the coat of arms of Slytherin House. 

_Follow its beam where it crosses the sign... _

Suddenly it hit him. The Slytherin common room! It was one of the few dungeons that had a window, and the window of the common room pointed westward. Severus hadn't been in the common room often-- usually he only entered it in cases of emergency, such as when the basilisk had been on the loose three years before. Yet he knew that there was a large Slytherin crest carved into the stone right above the fireplace. 

It was the only logical explanation. 

Severus spat out the pieces of feather from his quill he had been biting off in excitement. He and Harry would be in the Slytherin common room tonight. It was their only chance. According to Sinistra, the next chance was in about a decade and the time they had to act was probably not more than a minute, a few seconds possibly-- no one knew which time-frame Slytherin thought of when he had said 'once the clock has struck twelve'. Another generally unknown part of the business was _what had to be done or __if anything had to be done. But those problems he could worry about later. What was more important now was to inform Dumbledore, get Potter to the dungeons, and make sure no one saw them together, let alone in the Slytherin common room. His calculations would either work out, or their only chance would be wasted. _

~*~

It was half past eleven when Harry quietly slipped into Severus's office. He had brought his Invisibility Cloak, and whether he wanted to or not, Severus had to give him credit for that. He had never thought Potter would be so far-sighted. What luck James had bequeathed the cloak to Harry! Thus the risk of Harry being seen walking around the Slytherin quarters was taken care of. For once the late Potter was useful for something! 

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, clutching at the Invisibility Cloak.

"We are going to the Slytherin common room," Severus said with a frown at Harry as he wrinkled the cloak. "And stop maltreating that. We still need it." 

Harry glowered and stopped playing with the cloth. 

"I hope you are aware of the danger you are putting yourself in," Severus continued, fixing Harry with a stern gaze. "I need not tell you that we have to proceed with the utmost care and should anyone see us, our lives are as good as lost."

"I thought I was down for Voldemort's killing spree anyway," Harry shrugged.

"But I am not," Severus snapped, glaring. "You seem to handle both our lives fairly carelessly."

"Ah," Harry said with an air of surprise, "so your life is in my hands, is it?"

Severus couldn't believe his ears. Was this unbearable brat threatening him?

He advanced on Harry and came to a standstill a few feet in front of him, towering over him. Pure poison flew from his eyes. "Was that a _threat?" he said in his most dangerous whisper. _

Harry snorted. "You should know that I would never put anyone's life at risk," he said. "Not even yours."

"I suppose I should be grateful for that," Severus said with heavy sarcasm. Angrily, he strode towards the door. "Are you ready?"

Harry nodded.

"Then put on your Invisibility Cloak."

~*~

Once Harry had done so, he and Snape sneaked out of the office and into the corridor. It was very dark. The torches had all been extinguished and so the corridors were illuminated only by the pale bars of moonlight that trickled through sporadic windows. Snape was preceding Harry as noiselessly as a shadow. He did have a lot of practice in prowling the school at night after all. Harry remembered that whenever he had been out after curfew, Snape had been sure to turn up around the next corner.

He tried to follow Snape as silently as possible under his Invisibility Cloak. Once he tripped over a protruding flagstone and nearly fell to the ground, but he caught himself in time. He didn't want to contemplate what a racket he would have made, had he really fallen. 

Snape stopped at a patch of bare stone wall. "_Pure blood," he muttered and the wall parted, leaving a broad opening. _

Those Slytherins really weren't very imaginative as far as passwords were concerned, Harry thought. Back in his second year, when he had entered the Slytherin common room disguised as Goyle, it had been the same one. Either they were really careless and were _still using the same one or they were so fond of the word 'pure-blood' that they used it __again. The latter was probably the case. Harry could well imagine them having some sort of list of passwords they went through each year: 1. __pure blood, 2. __evil overlord, 3. __Voldie rules!, 4. __start at the top again and continue ad nauseum! _

Harry stepped through the opening after Snape. The room hadn't changed at all since the last time he had been there. The greenish, now extinguished lamps were still hanging from the ceiling and the carved chairs-- only visible as shapeless shadows-- were standing in front of the large, empty fireplace. One could hardly see anything as there was but one small, round, stained-glass window right beneath the ceiling. The glass displayed a winding, green serpent on a background of dark-blue, and the moonlight that fell through it cast an amplified version of that picture on the wall opposite. 

Harry heard Snape mutter an incantation, and a soft clicking sound told him that the doors to the dormitories were magically locked. Harry felt a bit more secure. At least no one would burst in while they were lying in wait for something extraordinary to happen. 

Harry cast a look at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was ten to midnight. There was still some time. He went over to one of the carved chairs that stood in a corner and sat down. It was rather uncomfortable. 

Snape, in the meantime, had begun to examine the fireplace. He was tracing his fingers along the carvings above the mantelpiece. They depicted a large, winding serpent, surrounded by a circle of runes. The Slytherins had to be really fond of snakes. Either that or they detested blank walls, because it seemed that wherever they could find a bare patch of wall, they buried it beneath heaps of carved, painted or embroidered serpents. Even the window, the only source of light for this room, was occupied by a snake.

Harry was getting drowsy. He watched the hands of the clock ticking away and nearing midnight. If something didn't happen soon, he would fall asleep and miss everything!

The projection of the green serpent on the dark-blue background was slowly wandering across the wall in front of Harry. It was almost right above the fireplace, and it seemed odd how it matched the carving in the stone in form and size. The two snakes were displayed in exactly the same position and the round form of the blue background fit exactly into the circle of runes in the stone. In a few minutes, the projection would cover the carving. _In a few minutes..._

Harry was suddenly wide-awake. In a few minutes it would be midnight, and all this certainly wasn't a coincidence. 

"Potter, where are you?" Snape hissed to the wall at the other end of the room. 

"I'm here," Harry whispered, taking off the Invisibility Cloak and laying it beside him. "Professor," he went on, "do you see that serpent above the fireplace? Do you think it's got something to do with the Ayrin?"

Snape turned around. "Very astute, Potter," he said with an ironic undertone, but there was also something like grudgingly given appreciation in his voice. "Pay attention."

Somewhere deep inside the castle a clock started to chime. Harry counted the heavy strokes. 

Nine...ten...eleven...twelve!

He had been right. With the last stroke, the projection from the window covered the stone carving as if the two pictures had never been separated. Harry held his breath. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Snape standing motionless a few feet away from him. There was an almost unbearable tension in the air. The seconds seemed to trickle away in slow motion. Something had to _happen or the moment would pass! _

"Professor, we've got to _do something!" he whispered urgently._

"Then kindly tell me what!" Snape hissed back angrily.

Harry got up from his chair and stood before the fireplace. Maybe he could talk to the snake up on the stone, as he had talked to the snakes that were guarding the Chamber of Secrets? He had to try.

Concentrating hard upon the shimmering green snake on the wall and pretending it was real, he said, "Open."

"What?" said Snape, baffled.

It hadn't worked.

Harry concentrated still harder, imagining the green light to be enamelled skin, the eyes to flash viciously...

"Open," he said again. And this time it wasn't the word he heard but a low hiss.

Suddenly, the snake seemed to glow. Bright green light was radiating from it, illuminating the room. Then a scraping, grinding noise followed, like stone being dragged over stone, and suddenly the whole fireplace seemed to move. The sound set Harry's teeth on edge. Beside him, Snape was casting worried looks at the doors to the dormitories. The noise was loud enough to wake the dead. 

Harry saw that the fireplace was slowly turning around. Grate, mantelpiece and the carvings above it were disappearing into the wall and some kind of hollow was appearing in their place. Harry stood there with his mouth hanging open and watched as the niche came completely into sight. It was occupied by an enormous statue of a cobra in striking position, its head raised threateningly, the sides of its neck spread like a shield, and its mouth baring foot-long, needle-sharp fangs. While its bulbous right eye flashed with a green shimmer, there seemed to be no left eye. 

Harry was still standing motionlessly, awe-struck by the monumental serpent, when Snape called him. He was standing next to it, inspecting its one green eye which was some inches above his head.

Coming to a halt next to Snape, Harry, too, peered at the eye. It was a glittering, multi-faceted emerald, in which the moonlight reflected so strongly that it almost seemed as if the emerald were a source of light itself. Come to think of it-- it didn't look at all like a normal emerald. Something appeared to move inside it. The emerald seemed strangely _alive... _

"Is that...?" Harry began in awe and pointed at the eye.

"The Ayrin," Snape finished. "Take it. You are the only one who can touch it."

Harry stretched out his arm but couldn't reach the Ayrin. It was fastened too high above him. He was just about to move one of the chairs in front of the stone serpent so that he could climb onto it when he heard a rattle from the direction of the dormitories. He froze. Someone was trying to open the door. 

Harry looked at Snape in horror. Of course, someone had been bound to hear the racket the disappearing fireplace had been making. And it wouldn't take long until the Slytherins had figured out how to break the locking charm Snape had set on the doors. What if they burst in and saw them? Everything would have been in vain!

Snape yanked the chair out of Harry's hand and placed it before the serpent. "Up!" he spat.

Harry woke from his petrifaction, and in a feverish haste, he climbed onto the chair. He seized the emerald and pulled. With a jerk that nearly made him fall backwards off the chair, he ripped the emerald out of the stone. 

As soon as the Ayrin had been removed from the stone serpent, the wall began to turn around again with the same horrible racket as before. The fireplace was sliding back into place. Harry quickly jumped down from the chair and took it with him into the middle of the common room. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life imprisoned in a hiding-place inside a stone wall. 

The knocking and hammering on the door had grown stronger, and muffled voices had begun to shout. Harry felt himself seized roughly by the arm and dragged through the door into the corridor. Snape was pulling him mercilessly through the maze of corridors, Harry stumbling after him, the Ayrin clutched firmly in his hand. Only then did he realise with a jolt that he had forgotten his Invisibility Cloak in the Slytherin common room...


	7. The Net Draws In

**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter Six: The Net Draws In_

"Professor...!" Harry panted, "Professor, I..." But Snape pretended to be deaf and didn't stop walking until they had reached his office. 

"What?" he finally asked irritably, locking the door from inside. 

"The Invisibility Cloak..." Harry began timidly, "I've left it inside the Slytherin common room."

In seconds, Snape's sallow face turned white, then brick red. "You _what?"_

"I'm sorry..." Harry muttered, looking at his shoes. 

"So," Snape said in a dangerous whisper, "you're sorry. Are you aware of the consequences your carelessness will have? Do you realise that this cloak of yours will be recognized? By tomorrow the first owl will have reached the Dark Lord telling him that you have invaded the Slytherin common room." Snape's voice had risen to a shout. 

 "Can't we just go and fetch..." Harry began to venture in a small voice.

"_No!_" Snape thundered, his face a mask of fury. "The place will be swarming with students already. What have I done to deserve being saddled with you!" he cursed between his teeth.

Harry felt bad about having left the cloak behind. Not only would Malfoy recognize the cloak as his, but Harry had also lost his father's only bequest. 

Snape was studying Harry, his facial muscles twitching. "Should your negligence place us in considerable danger, you will be the one to swallow the bitter pill!" he said nastily. "I'll make sure of it! Show me the Ayrin."

Harry realized that he was still clutching the Ayrin in his hand. Curious himself, he laid it upon Snape's desk. 

The Ayrin was a hemispherical-shaped jewel, about the size of a Galleon, and Harry had been right -- something was moving inside it. It was some substance that swirled around incessantly, like a small wisp of green smoke meandering its way through the fiber of the emerald as if the gem was made of nothing but water. And there was something else Harry hadn't noticed before: a tiny hole in the emerald, smaller than a pinprick, into which an incredibly thin chain was inserted. The chain was not much thicker than a hair but it seemed to be very firm. 

Curiously, Harry took the Ayrin again and turned it around. On the flat side of it, he noticed an inscription, written in tiny interlaced letters: _Omnis pretium habet. He didn't understand the words, so he pointed them out to Snape._

"Hmm..." Snape said after a pause, his eyes lingering on the words. He wore an odd expression that Harry – if he hadn't known better -- would almost have called 'worried'. "It is Latin and it means: 'Everything has a price.'"

A funny feeling grew in the pit of Harry's stomach. He found the inscription a little unsettling. He knew his worries might be groundless, but it usually wasn't a good sign if something spoke of 'a price', and particularly not when done in such a cryptic way. 

"Put the chain around your neck," Snape commanded, casting all caution to the wind. 

"But what if the inscription is a warning?" Harry began. "What if it…"

"We can't delay on account of your insignificant worries," Snape interrupted, quite unkindly and without the slightest trace of compassion for Harry's concern. "Put it around your neck."

Mentally Harry let out a tirade about the Potions Master. It was all very well for Snape. _He_ didn't have to wear the Ayrin and risk the possible consequences, after all! 

Even though he was still unsure whether this was the right thing or not, Harry did as he was told. As the Ayrin touched the skin of his chest, he suddenly felt a chilling cold, like an icy blade, pierce him, while, for a split second, blinding white light exploded in his vision. Harry yelped and clapped a hand to his eyes, gasping for breath. Then it was over.

"What's wrong?" Snape demanded, giving him a sharp look. 

Harry could feel the dull chill clutching his heart in an icy grip of steel. "It feels... _cold_," he whispered. 

At that moment, he saw a ball of black feathers fly past him and land on Snape's shoulder. The bird emitted a croaking noise that Harry could have sworn sounded like 'Good evening'. 

"What's that?" he asked, dumbfounded. 

"Oh, this ... this is Cara," Snape said, seeming embarrassed. 

Then the crow definitely spoke. "Don't you want to intrrrroduce the boy to me, Severrrrrus?" Cara said reproachfully, picking at Snape's ear. 

"Harry Potter," Snape said carelessly. 

"So that's your s ..." Cara began enthusiastically but was instantly silenced by a poisonous look from Snape. "... Ssstudent," Cara finished in a small voice. 

This obvious near-slip of Cara's made Harry wonder. What had she wanted to say and why had Snape wanted to shut her up? But he put the question out of his mind again. He liked the funny bird straight off and if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed her to be Snape's pet. Snape was the last person you would associate with such a creature. 

"Er ... nice to meet you," Harry said to the crow. 

"I hope you will visit us morrrre often," Cara replied, cocking her head. 

Snape looked as though his patience was wearing thin. "Now that you've made each other's acquaintance, kindly let me work. Potter, you may go," he snapped. 

"Don't take him too seriously," Cara said to Harry with what was clearly a wink. "He's in a difficult perrrriod. He's sufferrrring frrrrom rrrreality shock."

Trying hard to hide his silent laughter, Harry watched as Snape's face slowly turned an apoplectic shade of purple. "Hush!" he barked at the crow, then rounded on Harry. "Well? What are you still doing here?"

Harry quickly fled from the room before his self-control snapped and he laughed out loud. Undoubtedly Gryffindor would have lost a considerable amount of points had he done so. It was rather astonishing to Harry that Snape hadn't yet wrung Cara's neck. 

~*~

There was turmoil in Slytherin House. After some of the older students had managed to unlock the doors to the dormitories, the whole house had flooded into the common room to see what had caused such a noise in the middle of the night. 

Draco strutted around, trying to pick up on each theory that was being discussed among the different groups of students. The wildest rumours were already beginning to spread, most of which concerned Voldemort attacking Hogwarts.

As he spotted the Invisibility Cloak lying on a chair, Draco's features split into a triumphant smirk. This was Potter's! Unobserved in all the tumult, he snatched the silvery cloth and secretly tucked it beneath his robes. 

~*~

_Harry was standing in what looked like a spacious hall. The ceiling was so high and the distant end of the hall so far away that he couldn't make out either of them. There were no windows in between the walls' large square stones. Instead, several feet-high pillars stood at regular intervals on either side, bearing blazing fires. _

_Before Harry stood an assembly of black-clad creatures, forming a semicircle around him. Their voluminous robes revealed nothing of what lay beneath, save for flat, shrewd-looking faces with slanting yellow eyes that seemed to gleam in the dark. The creatures bore a peculiar resemblance to Grindylows, but they were taller and --  instead of the sickly green hide of the water-dwelling creatures -- their skin was the colour of grey granite. _

_One of the creatures stepped forward from the semicircle and came to a halt in front of Harry. "You have called the powers of hell, Master," it said in a cold hiss. "Many of them are in your possession now. You are granted immortality; you have the power over life and death; you are able to control nature. All this and much more will be at your service for but a small price. As compensation for lending you our powers, we claim one soul for each day they are at your disposal. It is your duty to provide those souls to us, as  is set in the ancient contract. We, too, once sacrificed one of our own so that this means of power transference could be created -- Ayrin. And should you choose to wear both halves of him united, your power would be so great that your mortal brain would be incapable of grasping it. Hell itself would be under your command." The demon made a sweeping gesture. _

_"However, never forget to fulfil your duty, for should you not comply with it, we will take what we want." The demon bared its pointed black teeth in a horrible smile. "Take heed!"_

_Harry noticed that the others were drawing closer around him. His heart beating wildly, he stumbled backwards until his back touched the wall, while the black-robed figures kept closing in around him, all baring their gleaming black teeth and hissing menacingly..._

Harry woke up, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. What a strange dream! It had been so vivid that it had seemed real – unnervingly so ...  Silently, he drew back the curtains from his four-poster and got up to creep over to the window. Through it, the pale moonlight was oozing softly into the room. Everything was quiet in the castle and down upon the Hogwarts grounds. Hagrid's hut stood peacefully at the edge of the Forbidden Forest; not a mouse stirred. _It had only been a dream after all, nothing more ... _

Relieved, Harry went back to his bed and drew the curtains shut. He had overreacted. The strain of the last days was telling on him and causing him to have nightmares. It was nothing to worry about.

Harry rolled up under his blanket and closed his eyes. A few minutes later he had fallen asleep again, and when he woke up the next morning he had forgotten all about his dream. 

Tired and puffy-eyed, he went to the greenhouses for Herbology with Ron and Hermione. He hadn't had a chance yet to tell them what had happened the previous night -- that he had found the Ayrin -- for they were constantly surrounded by other students or teachers.

For that day's lesson, Professor Sprout made them cut the twigs of a red-leafed, wildly proliferous shrub called Autumncrown, the leaves of which were used to make a tea that was supposed to cure headaches. Harry couldn't quite keep his mind on the task before him. The cuts he made were very untidy and he received several admonitions from Professor Sprout for mutilating the plant. 

Ron, in the meantime, was whispering animatedly to Harry. "What happened last night?" he kept asking. "You were out until way after midnight!"

"I can't tell you now," Harry hissed back for the fifth time, hitting out at the Autumncrown with his knife. "You'll have to wait until we're alone."

Suddenly Ron's mouth fell open. He stared at Harry's hand. Harry followed Ron's gaze but couldn't see what was so interesting. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, confused. 

"Your ... your hand!" Ron stuttered, pointing. "I saw that knife go right through it! And you aren't even bleeding!"

Baffled, Harry looked at his hand again. There was nothing – no scratch, not a mark upon his skin. "Rubbish!" he said. "You're putting me on."

"No, I'm serious!" Ron said emphatically. "You were cutting those twigs and not paying attention, and then the blade went through your hand instead of the twig! Do it again!"

Harry tapped himself on the forehead. "Why should I cut myself on purpose? I'm not stupid!"

But Ron had already seized Harry's hand and with his own knife was carefully scratching the skin. When Ron removed the knife there was a tiny wound, but it instantly healed, leaving no mark at all. Harry hadn't felt a thing. 

Incredulously, Harry stared at his hand and then at the short and rather blunt knife. He cut himself again. And again. Each time the same happened. 

Under Harry's robes, the Ayrin lay cold against his chest. He had become invulnerable. 

~*~

Under the pretence of having a stomach ache, Draco left his History of Magic lesson. Going straight to his dormitory, he retrieved the Invisibility Cloak  from where he had safely tucked it beneath the mattress of his four-poster. 

Disappearing beneath the cloak, he then marched through the dark corridors towards the rear of the castle. The sound of his footsteps was muffled by the thick layer of dust upon the floor. It seemed that no one must have entered that part of the castle for ages. The beam of Draco's wand was the only source of light in the dark maze of ancient corridors. 

Soon the wand-beam hit an old door with iron fittings, covered in cobwebs. Draco pulled a rusty key out of his pocket and fit it into the keyhole. It was very difficult, but finally he managed to turn the key, unlatching the lock. He pulled at the iron ring which served as a doorknob, and creaking with centuries of disuse, the door opened. 

The daylight of the grounds outside was dimmed, as a curtain of ivy covered the entrance almost completely. Only some weeds upon the ground and the twigs of a thorny bush on the right were visible. 

All of a sudden, the curtain of ivy parted and Draco felt something brush him. He closed the door again and locked it. Then he tugged at the Invisibility Cloak, letting it slide down from his head. The person in front of him did the same. 

The Death Eater wore a black cloak and mask over his face. "Did everything go according to plan?" he asked in a deep voice that Draco didn't recognize. 

Draco nodded. "I'll lead you to his office."

They both put on their Invisibility Cloaks again and vanished from sight. 

~*~

Sirius sat in Dumbledore's office, drinking tea with the headmaster as they discussed how they were going to proceed. Even though Sirius wasn't happy about having to put up with Snape's presence, he felt his sense of adventure awakening. The mission that Dumbledore had planned was right after his own heart. And he got to share it with his godson.

"So we will leave early tomorrow morning?" Sirius asked, taking another swig of tea. 

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You will need time because you have to fly by broom. You can't apparate as Harry hasn't got his licence yet, and there's no connection to the Floo network anywhere near the village."

Sirius snorted with laughter. "We are going to fly? What does Snape say to that?" Snape had always been a miserable flyer, and Sirius had never missed a chance to taunt him about it. 

"To tell you the truth -- he doesn't know that yet," Dumbledore replied with a sigh. Obviously he too expected a refusal on Snape's part. 

"Well, flying is fine with me," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. "And then we are going to stay at a pub, you said?"

"Yes, I have booked two rooms for you at the _Flashing Wands in Godric's Hollow. You and Harry can share one."_

"Godric's Hollow?" Sirius asked, alarmed. Everything in him strove against going there. Since James's and Lily's deaths he had avoided the quaint little village. It still hurt to think about what he had lost there, and a visit to Godric's Hollow would only refresh painful memories. 

"If I could spare you the stay in Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore said, giving Sirius a sympathetic look over his half-moon glasses, "I would. Believe me. But you must go there. It is the closest village to Voldemort's current hide-out."

Sirius nodded. "I understand," he said in a somewhat choked voice, then added with sudden savageness, "We will finish him off, I promise!"

Dumbledore's expression remained grave. "Don't let yourself be driven by your hatred of Voldemort," he cautioned, "for many a man has lost his life by giving way to his passions when cool reason and sharp wit had been needed instead."

There was a short pause in which Sirius, staring out the window, reminisced about the times he had spent with James and Lily. Even though fourteen years had passed since their death, Sirius sometimes still couldn't quite believe that his best friends were gone. How much they had done together! All their pranks at school, all their conspiracies, and then one day it had all been over. James and Lily were no more ...

Sirius breathed deeply and sipped at his tea. "All right," he conceded. "But how do I get into this pub without anyone recognizing me?" he finally asked matter-of-factly, hiding the sadness that the name of Godric's Hollow had invoked.

"Well," Dumbledore said, suddenly chuckling to himself, "you will have to disguise yourself, of course. I have booked the two rooms for a Mr. and Mrs. Wheathergood, plus son. You will be Mrs. Wheathergood."

Sirius nearly choked on his tea. "What?" he exclaimed, horrified, and coughed. "You can't be serious!" The idea of wearing a frilly dress and carrying a handbag slung around his arm made him groan inwardly.

"Yes, I am," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "You will see: it'll be an excellent disguise -- no one will recognize you as Sirius Black. Indeed, the plan almost made it into the top ten of my best ideas."

Sirius muttered something containing the words 'hard' and 'believe' into his tea cup before draining it. 

"Unfortunately, we no longer have an Invisibility Cloak to use," Dumbledore said with mild regret, "and unless you want to spent the whole time hiding in a wardrobe, I suggest you accept the plan." There was amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. 

"Why can't I simply transform into a dog while I'm in Godric's Hollow?" Sirius asked gruffly. "No one would recognize me as a dog either."

"It would be highly impractical if you were forced to spend the whole time in your canine form," Dumbledore reasoned. "Besides, I'm afraid that dogs are not allowed inside the pub."

Sirius wasn't quite convinced yet. "And how do you think that'll work -- me a woman?"

"You will drink Polyjuice Potion and assume Professor Sinistra's shape. I have discussed it with her and she has agreed that you may take her appearance."

Sirius brought his teacup down on the table with a loud thump. "I'm going to--?" he spluttered. "No! That's going too far!"

"Why?"

"Dumbledore!" Sirius said reproachfully. "Me turning into Professor Sinistra? That's ... that's impossible! Even if she does approve. I mean, I've never drunk Polyjuice before. What if something goes wrong?" He paused for a second, searching for arguments. "Wait -- isn't it even dangerous to attempt to turn into a member of the other sex?" he finally asked, almost triumphantly. But Dumbledore waved the question away with a dismissive gesture. 

"Don't worry," he said. "I presume that's only a precautionary warning for less gifted potion brewers. Should the potion indeed go wrong and the brewer retains the appearance of the person he transformed into for ever, it would at least be a relief to remain the same gender as before, I daresay. But I assure you that Severus can be trusted with the concocting of the Polyjuice Potion."

That was too much for Sirius. He abruptly pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "You expect me to trust Snape with that?" he shouted. "Snape of all people? You are mad! Snape will be delighted about having a chance to finally get back at me!"

Dumbledore remained calm. "Sit down, Sirius," he said. "I guarantee that Severus won't use the Polyjuice Potion to take revenge on you. He has given me his word."

"His word!" Sirius snorted in disgust, sitting down again. "I'm afraid his word doesn't count for much."

"Severus has vouched for your well-being," Dumbledore said and there was a steely note in his voice. "He knows that if he betrays my trust in him, I will call him to account, and he is well aware of what that means. I think it's not asking too much of you and Severus to set aside your dispute in view of something as essential as the battle against Lord Voldemort."

Sirius had to accept that, if reluctantly. The battle against Voldemort was more important than personal grudges and distrust. Sirius might feel anything but secure when he thought about the Polyjuice Potion -- and he still didn't trust Snape one iota -- but he did trust Dumbledore and he was prepared to make sacrifices for the victory of good over evil. So he merely grumbled something unintelligible and then fell silent. 

"Fine," Dumbledore said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I knew you would agree. That's settled then."

There was simply no point in arguing further. Sirius was very keen to change the subject. "You told me that Snape discovered Slytherin's notes on the Ayrin," he said, still a bit gruffly. "May I have a look at them?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore said. "They are in Snape's office. As soon as his lessons for today are over, I'll send for him -- or you may do so -- and he can show them to you. Would you like another cup of tea?"

~*~

It hadn't been very difficult to break into Snape's office. One Blasting Charm and the lock of the door had given way. A Revealing Spell and all obstacles had been obvious and easy to remove. 

The Death Eater was searching all the drawers in Snape's office, throwing everything that was of no use to him carelessly upon the floor. It was already strewn with a mess of papers, books and broken ink bottles that had spread their contents over everything. An ungraded exam was being corroded by an aggressive, green potion that was seeping across the floor. 

The Death Eater was just about to pull another drawer out of the desk and dump its contents onto the tabletop when a loud, screeching noise made him stop. 

A crow had flown in through the open window and it was screeching madly. "Intrrrruder! Intrrrruder!" its cries reverberated off the dungeon walls. 

"Shut up" the Death Eater snarled, "or you will regret it."

But the crow didn't shut up. "Help!" it cried, fluttering around wildly. "An intrrrruder in the office!"

The Death Eater didn't hesitate. He pulled his wand from his sleeve, pointed it at the racketing crow, and hissed, "_Avada__ Kedavra!"_

For the fraction of a second, Cara's form froze in mid-air, illuminated by a green light; then she dropped to the floor like a stone and lay motionless. 

Without hurry, the Death Eater continued to search through Snape's belongings. Finally he found the evidence he had been looking for. He took the scrolls of parchment and pocketed them. 

Looking around himself, he suddenly had an idea. Beneath his mask, his features contorted into a horrible smile. This would please the Dark Lord!

Walking over to the cupboard, he swept all the phials it held down onto the floor with one stroke of his arm. The phials shattered, their various potions hissing as they seeped across the flagstones. Numerous books were then pulled from their shelves and thrown down amid the mess, until almost no object remained in its original place.

At last, the Dark Lord's servant trudged through the heaps of papers and books to where the dead crow lay. With a gloved hand he picked up the stiffened bird and laid it upon the bleak desk. He scribbled a note upon a scrap of parchment and placed it next to the crow, where it would be noticed easily. Then casting a last satisfied glance over the chaos he had left, and snatching his Invisibility Cloak, he disappeared the way he had come. 

~*~

"... I quickly pulled out the Ayrin, and we fled from the Slytherin common room," Harry finished his story. "It's just that ... well ... I left the Invisibility Cloak there in my hurry," he added in a small voice. "Snape nearly cut my head off!"

Sirius pulled a face. "Ah, that's tough luck!" he said without reproval. Clearly he wanted to do the opposite of what Snape had done and thus dispensed with a reprimand. "It could have been worse," he added. 

Harry and Sirius were sitting in the green room on the seventh floor, right under the roof. After his lessons, Harry had gone straight to his godfather to tell him what had happened the previous night. Sirius had already been told most of the story by Dumbledore, but he hadn't heard Harry's version yet. 

"May I see the Ayrin?" Sirius asked curiously. 

Harry pulled it out from under his shirt and held it up for Sirius to see. "It's a strange feeling to wear it," Harry admitted. "It feels so cold -- always. And the first time I put it around my neck I saw this flash of white light."

He didn't miss the concerned look that Sirius gave him. "Has anything else happened since you've been wearing it?" he asked, frowning. 

Harry thought for a second, then shook his head. "Not really. But there's an inscription on the emerald." He turned it around and showed Sirius the words. "Snape said it means 'Everything has a price'."

Sirius's frown deepened. "That's not exactly reassuring," he said. "I don't want to frighten you, Harry, but honestly -- it could be a serious warning."

"That's what I worried about too," Harry said, "but Snape would have none of it."

"Bugger!" muttered Sirius, with feeling. "Promise me, Harry, that you will tell me immediately if anything unusual happens," he said gravely. "This stone is probably dangerous."

Harry nodded his consent. "Let's hope there won't be anything else unusual."

There was a sharp knock upon the door, and without waiting for permission, Snape entered the room. "What do you want, Black?" he asked coldly, without any preamble. 

"Have you ever heard of the custom to wait outside a room until you are invited in?" Sirius asked in mock earnestness. "They call it courtesy. A word you might want to add to your vocabulary."

The look Snape gave him was more poisonous than any snake fang could have been. "Don't _you_ lecture me about courtesy, Black," he said in his most dangerous voice. "I would choose my words more carefully if I were you. Otherwise you might find yourself back in Azkaban sooner than you would expect." A maniacal glint appeared in Snape's eyes that Harry -- had he been subjected to it rather than Sirius -- would have found truly frightening. "Now, _what do you want? I'm not going to waste my valuable time listening to your inane rambling."_

"I was wondering if I could have a look at those Ayrin notes you have in your office," Sirius replied pleasantly. But Harry could tell from the look on his face that his manner was quite forced.

Snape's expression darkened even more. "And this was so urgent that you weren't able to wait to call for me until my lesson was over?"

Sirius shrugged. "I like it when people respond to my calls quickly." He smirked. 

It was not difficult to see that Snape was fuming inwardly for having acted the errand-boy for Sirius. "Follow me then," he said brusquely, turning sharply on his heel and stalking out the door. 

Sirius followed at a leisurely pace with Harry bringing up the rear. 

"Did you know that we are leaving for the great adventure tomorrow?" Sirius asked Snape innocently after about a minute of walking in silence.

Snape looked at him coldly. "The headmaster has informed me," he said. "But I can assure you that it won't be a 'great adventure', as you call it."

Sirius shrugged. "Whatever. But did the headmaster also 'inform' you that we're flying?" There was a sly tone in his voice. 

For a heartbeat, Snape paused, then he resumed walking. "You surely don't expect me to believe that?" he replied disdainfully. 

Harry noticed that Sirius was trying hard not to laugh. "You will have to believe it, Snape. Ask Dumbledore -- he will confirm it any time. We can't apparate with Harry, and there's no access to the Floo Network easily available to us. I'd call it tough luck, if I were you. But of course, you can always walk." Sirius chuckled silently; Snape's face had started to turn the same shade of red it usually assumed when he was close to a major outburst of rage. 

"Laugh away, Black," he said through clenched teeth. "One day you'll regret it."

They had reached Snape's office. Pushing open the door, Snape stopped so abruptly that Sirius, who was following him now at a swift pace, collided with him. "What the …" Sirius began irritably, but Snape stood rooted to the spot, blocking the office from view. 

When Snape finally tottered into the room, Harry and Sirius had a chance to see what had happened. 

A scene of devastation met their eyes. The floor was covered in soggy papers, books, and shards of glass, and empty drawers were scattered all around. 

Sirius whistled. "Someone did a thorough job here."

Snape didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on his desk. In slow-motion he approached it, his arms dangling limply by his side. Coming to a halt, he bent over something lying on the otherwise empty tabletop. 

With a sense of apprehension, Harry hurried forward. 

Cara was lying on the desk, completely stiff and immobile, her feet sticking out into the air. Harry felt a stab of sadness and pity for Snape as he watched him look at her. Harry could guess how dear the animal must have been to him.

A scrap of parchment caught Harry's eye. It was lying partially beneath the bird. As Snape prodded Cara with his wand and muttered incantations, taking no notice of anything else, Harry took the parchment and unfolded it. It held a message written in untidy capital letters:

THIS IS THE LAST WARNING! 

THE NEXT CURSE WILL HIT YOU!

The words sent a chill down Harry's spine. Was Snape truly in such great danger?

Harry was just about to direct the others' attention to the note when Sirius caught sight of Cara. "Since when do you collect stuffed animals?" he asked quite disrespectfully, without compassion. 

"Get out!" Snape said. His voice sounded oddly hoarse, and he was still staring down at the dead crow as if petrified. 

 "Professor, there is a mes--"  Harry began to point out, but was cut off. 

"I BELIEVE I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT!" Snape yelled at the top of his voice. 

Harry understood. He quickly seized Sirius by the arm and pulled him out of the dungeon. 

Once they were outside, Sirius said in confusion, "What's the matter with him? Is he ill? He didn't even throw a tantrum over the mess."

"It's the crow," Harry explained. "It was his pet. I think Cara's death has really shattered him."

"Cara?" Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows.

"That was the crow's name. She could talk, you know."

"Oh ..." Sirius said indifferently. He clearly didn't feel any compassion for Snape. 

Harry remembered the message he had found on the desk. "This was lying next to her," he said, showing Sirius the scrap. 

"Good Lord." Sirius shook his head. "It looks like Snape is pretty deep in the soup. But that's what comes of being one of You-Know-Who's toadies. It's his own fault!"

"Don't you think you're a bit too harsh with Snape?" Harry asked. "I mean, I don't like him either, but he's come back to our side and he's turned spy against Voldemort, putting his own life at risk. And now he's really in danger."

Sirius suddenly became very grave. "Harry, do you know what the Death Eaters are doing? Do you know what they consider as _fun? I've seen it, Harry, in my time as an Auror and I can tell you that it would make your hair stand on end! They abduct Muggles and Mudbloods for their festivities, in which they subject their victims to the most gruesome tortures before finally killing them. For pleasure! Don't you think someone who has ever voluntarily commited such atrocities deserves to be punished? Well, Snape never was." He laughed bitterly. "No, Dumbledore protected him -- a murderer! While I had to spend twelve years in Azkaban. Innocent! And you say I'm too harsh with Snape? No, with his little bit of spying he's just trying to make amends for what he can never repay!"_

Harry was very quiet after that. He had to admit that if anyone had a reason to hate Snape and wish him the worst, then it was Sirius. It had been horrible for him, Harry knew, to spend twelve years in Azkaban, knowing that he was innocent and that the real perpetrators were walking free. 

~*~

In his office, Severus sank slowly into a chair. He didn't have to ask who had caused all the devastation. From the moment he had seen his destroyed office he had known what must have happened. Obviously the Dark Lord's suspicions about him had become so strong that he had finally sent one or several of his Death Eaters to investigate. No doubt they had found Slytherin's notes on the Ayrin; it was very unlikely that they could have missed them in their thorough search. 

Severus had seen the parchment lying next to Cara, and without even reading it, he had known what was written on it. Cara's death was a warning. He was probably only an inch from death himself. 

At the moment, however, he couldn't have cared less. Neither his own safety nor the Ayrin were of any importance. The loss of Cara, his only friend, hurt too deeply. All his efforts to revive her had been to no avail. She was dead. Gingerly, he took the lifeless crow into his hands and stroked her smooth black feathers one last time. 

Almost seven years before, in a bitterly cold winter, he had found the crow lying in the snow, half frozen to death. He had brought her to Hogwarts where he had nursed her back to health, and one day-- to his complete astonishment-- the crow had started to speak to him. At first, he had found Cara's babbling bothersome and he had tried to get rid of her. But it had been impossible; the crow had kept coming back. In the end he had grudgingly accepted her, and soon Cara had become very dear to him. She had been a substitute for the friend he had never had. All those years he had shared his life with her, and now she was dead. Killed by one of the Dark Lords accursed sycophants!

With a heavy heart, Severus carried the crow out of the castle. It was dark and cold outside, and a sharp wind was blowing, making the trees groan. Dark menacing clouds obscured what little light the pale moon shed. It was almost as if the weather were a harbinger for the great storm that awaited them all -- the battle against Voldemort. 

Fighting against the heavy wind, Severus rounded the north wing of the castle. Behind it there was a meadow, a usually peaceful place. Hardly anyone ever came there. On a bright, warm, summer day the sight would have been picturesque. Almost all the walls on the west side of the castle would then be covered with a dense curtain of rich, green ivy that entwined itself around the battlements; blooming shrubs would sprinkle the slope of lush green grass; and the sun would make the smooth surface of the great lake sparkle. 

Autumn, however, had left its traces. Shrubs and trees thrust forth their bare twigs towards the starless sky, scattering their decaying leaves across the ground. A little further away, the great lake lay like a huge black mass in front of a line of trees, its inky surface rippled by the breeze. 

Severus laid the crow carefully under a thorn bush and took out his wand. "_Es pulvus," he muttered and the form of Cara crumbled into dust. _

For a few minutes Severus remained, standing immobile, watching the remnants of Cara being blown away by the wind that tugged at his own hair and robes. 

There was really only one person to blame. It was Severus himself who had destroyed everything he had ever possessed, who had tainted his honour, sullied his reputation, and even failed to save his only love. The Dark Mark that blemished his arm would always brand him as the scum he was: a coward who had wasted his life fawning over the greatest monster of all time -- Voldemort.

~*~

Harry was very pensive when he left Sirius and went to the Gryffindor common room. If it was really true what Sirius had said, and Snape had committed such atrocities, why was Dumbledore so lenient towards him? If it weren't for Dumbledore, Snape would be sitting in Azkaban until the end of his days. What gave Dumbledore such faith in Snape? What told him that Snape wouldn't fall back to killing people?

As Harry turned a corner, he ran into a group of Hufflepuffs talking with great excitement as they walked along the corridor. 

"There was another attack yesterday," a boy was saying. "A family with two children was killed; it was in the Daily Prophet."

"I know," said a red-haired girl, while another burst into tears. "It was the Kinleys who were murdered."

"We'll stamp them out!" the boy said savagely. "The Dark Lord and his whole Death Eater lot will have to pay."

Suddenly, Harry realized that he was holding his wand in his hand. Astonished, he stared down at it. Why was he holding his wand? He couldn't remember having taken it out of his pocket. 

He was just about to put it back into his pocket when he heard a voice that seemed to exist only inside his head, like someone else's thought transmitted into his own mind telepathicly. "Kill!" the cold hiss commanded. "_Kill!_" 

It all happened incredibly fast. Horrified, and without being able to do anything to prevent it, Harry saw his own hand jerk forward, pointing the wand at the Hufflepuffs in front of him. He felt his mouth forming words, and his breath giving voice to them in a hoarse whisper. "_Avada_..."

With an incredible effort, Harry wrenched his wand away from the Hufflepuffs, and suddenly he was able to control himself again. 

The Hufflepuffs hadn't noticed anything of what had happened. Talking in hushed voices, they disappeared around the next corner. 

Breathing heavily, Harry slumped against the wall. He felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck. That had been close! He had come within a hair's breadth of killing those Hufflepuffs. There was a tight knot of fear in his stomach. What on earth had happened to him? Some dark power must have seized hold of him and made him do what he had done. There was no other explanation. But where had this dark power come from?

Inside, he felt the cold sensation tighten its grip on his heart, and suddenly he remembered the dream from the night before. Those demons -- hadn't they said that he had to give them souls as compensation for the power of the Ayrin? What if it hadn't been a mere dream? What if it had been more than that?

Harry suddenly felt as though he carried a heavy weight on his shoulders. Slowly, and with legs that felt like lead, he went on to the Gryffindor Common room. 

Ron and Hermione were already waiting for him when he arrived. The moment he stepped through the portrait hole, they hurried over to him, bombarding him with whispered questions. 

Even though he didn't feel at all like answering their questions, especially not after the terrible thing that had almost happened, Harry nonetheless beckoned for them to follow him out into the corridor again. There he pulled them into a quiet side passage. 

"Harry, will you tell us now what has been happening?" Ron asked eagerly. 

Harry nodded and drew a deep breath. "We found the Ayrin." And he told them the whole story -- how he and Snape had found the Ayrin in the Slytherin common room, that Sirius was at Hogwarts, and that he, Snape, and Sirius would leave together the next day -- while Ron and Hermione listened with riveted attention. Harry couldn't have said what held him back, but he mentioned neither the dream nor the incident with the Hufflepuffs. 

At last he broke off, wearily. "Well ... I think I'll go and catch some sleep now because we're leaving really early next morning and it'll be a long journey. In case we don't see each other anymore before I'm off, I better say goodbye to you now. I hope I'll be back soon." He smiled wanly. "And take care of Hedwig, won't you? Good night, then." He turned his back on Ron and Hermione and disappeared through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione looked after him. 

"Didn't he seem a bit odd to you?" Hermione asked Ron worriedly. "He was so exhausted and he looked as pale as a ghost."

Ron shrugged. "He's probably just suffering from strain. It's no fun searching for ancient magical emeralds, I suppose, especially not when you've got Snape at your elbow. Harry will be fine. There's still Sirius after all."

~*~

_Harry was standing in the same room he had found himself in the night before. He recognized the rows of pillars to his left and right, their tops ablaze. Again, he stood in the centre of the semicircle formed by the demons. They were looking at him greedily with their gleaming yellow eyes. _

_Just as the previous time, one of them stepped forward. It seemed to be the head of the group. _

_"You have failed," the demon hissed. "Not only did you neglect your duty, you also wilfully denied us our chosen sacrifice. By doing so you have violated the treaty. We are therefore authorized to take from you what we are entitled to." _

_It closed the distance between itself and Harry and from the depths of its black robes a grey hand with long spindly fingers appeared. It brutally seized the front of Harry's robes and tore them apart, exposing his bare chest. With one of its sharp black fingernails, the demon then slit open Harry's skin. He gasped as a searing pain shot through his body, and he staggered backwards, feeling the rough, cold stone wall behind him.  _

_ "Herewith the servants of hell take their rightful recompense." The demon held open its hand and a thin thread of blue smoke wavered out of the cut on Harry's chest and into the demon's grip. _

_Once the demon had drawn forth a fistful of the blue smoke, it cut the thread off with a wave of its hand. "This should suffice for now," it said. _

_Harry looked at it bewildered. "What is that?" he asked, pointing at the blue smoke. _

_The demon gave him a shrewd look out of its feline eyes. "What is this? This is a part of your soul, boy," it said in a low hiss. "For each soul you deny us, we will take a part of your own soul. Therefore be warned: deny us more souls, and yours won't last long. And once we have drained you of the last bit, it will be irretrievably lost, and you will belong to us."_

_At these final words, the other demons burst into infernal laughter. Harry put his hands over his ears so that he didn't have to listen to the terrible unearthly noises that grew louder and louder..._

Once again Harry woke up, lying soaking wet and panting in his four-poster. This time he was sure that his dream hadn't been born of his fantasies. And neither had the first one. It all made sense -- the Ayrin and its power, the Hufflepuffs that he had almost killed ... They must have been the sacrifice the demon had been talking about. Thank God he had been able to prevent himself from killing one of them! To think that he had almost -- even if unwillingly -- sold an innocent soul to demons for a little bit of power ... It was unthinkable! 

But what about his own soul? In the dream the demon had taken a piece of it from him. If it were true and he had really lost a part of his soul ... 

With frantic fingers Harry pulled up his pyjama top. There was a long bleeding gash on his chest.

****************

A/N: The quote "he's suffering from reality shock" is from Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, The Light Fantastic. Rincewind says it about Twoflower who is disappointed that real gnomes don't wear red hats. Cara, of course, is refering to Harry being Snape's son. 

In the next chapter we're going to see Snape, Sirius and Harry flying to Godric's Hollow-- not without difficulties, of course. 

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed on ff.net and fictionalley! You know how much I appreciate every single review, so keep it up.  

Thank you:

Avalon, mimine, Luna Rose and Phoenix Child, tracev, kirasmommy, venus4280, iejasu, Severitus, sev, Katherine aka Star, Prophetess of Hearts, J. Lynn, Fran, Tidmag, Potions Master Snape Potter, Sev Rickman, summersun, a fan, Rob1, Felis Snape, Azrael, SilverWolf, Ariana Deralte, Moonlight, Myrddin Ambrosius, Arinya, jliles, Fading101, magicgerbil, The Harper, tall oaks, Hermes Weasely, Tess Wendracon, Minervakitty, Princess Kattera, littlemissvoldemort, Shy Unicorn.

And the biggest of all thanks goes to my ever watchful beta-reader Miranda!


	8. Losing Control

**A/N: I am really really sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter finished but I am awfully busy these days. I hope it is worth the long wait.   
  
**Disclaimer**: All characters are JK Rowling's save for my specially developped species of demons and minor characters such as the inn keeper and guests. ;-) Again, I nicked some quotes for this chapter, this time from _Buffy__ the Vampire Slayer._**

**Beyond the Shadows of the Night**

_Chapter Seven: Losing Control_

When Harry and Sirius arrived behind the Quidditch changing rooms early next morning, Snape was already there. He was leaning against the wooden wall, with his arms crossed and wearing a scowl. A rather battered-looking broomstick was propped up next to him. 

"You are late," he said by way of a morning greeting. 

"And a very good morning to you too!" Sirius replied wryly. Then he spotted the broomstick. "Are you going to fly with _that?" he asked incredulously, pointing at the broom, his mocking tone completely forgotten. _

"Why not!"

"Well, as soon as you break your neck, Harry and I will have a party," Sirius said, "because that broom certainly won't survive such a long journey. Look at the tail. Half the twigs have already fallen out."

"Don't let my problems worry you, Black," Snape said icily. 

"Is this broom a family heirloom or is Dumbledore paying you so little that you can't afford anything better?" Sirius mocked. 

"This broom is school property," Snape said coldly.

"What? You don't even have an own broomstick?" Sirius smothered a laugh. "But on second thought -- no surprise actually. With your flying skills I wouldn't touch one either. I'm surprised you even dare to mount this one." 

Snape gave him a hooded glare. "Spare your breath, Black," he said acidly. "You might need it sooner than you think." He pushed himself off the wall and snatched his broomstick. "May we leave now if you're in the mood?" he asked impatiently. 

Harry and Sirius both mounted their brooms -- Harry his Firebolt and Sirius his new Nimbus 2002 -- and kicked off from the ground, Snape following a good deal later, due to some starting problems. 

"Which direction?" Sirius shouted over to Snape.

"South."

Off they went. The sun that had only just began to rise in the blue eastern sky gilded the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and turned the Great Lake to molten silver. From this height the lake looked like a single tear, shed by a god. 

Harry had a lot of fun zooming through the chill morning air, racing Sirius, while beneath them the countryside changed. One by one the ragged grey mountains that surrounded Hogwarts were left behind, followed by lush green meadows, dark forests and golden fields.  Countless small villages with tiny little houses passed by, and streets thin like threads snaked their way through the landscape. 

Snape had put a Concealment Charm on the three of them, protecting their odd appearance from Muggle eyes. 

"Shall we tow you, Snape?" Sirius called tauntingly over his shoulder, hovering in mid-air above a dark coniferous forest, while the speck on the horizon that was Harry's Potions Master slowly grew larger. "At this rate it'll take us a week until we're there." 

"Shut up, Black!" came the angry snarl from afar. "And keep your witless remarks to yourself."

"Look who's talking," Sirius muttered.

Harry and Sirius waited until Snape had caught up with them. Obviously, his ancient broom couldn't keep up with Sirius's and Harry's. It seemed to put him to a lot of trouble and kept drifting off course or lost height at every gust of wind. 

Sirius shook his head in mock pity. "You couldn't have found a broom in a worse condition, could you?"

"This was the only one available," Snape said curtly. "And now go on. We have to be in Godric's Hollow until sunset."

Harry heard Sirius give an indignant reply to that but he didn't take in the words. They were flying to Godric's Hollow, Snape had said. The village where his parents had lived ...

"We are going to Godric's Hollow?" Harry interrupted Sirius's and Snape's argument. 

Suddenly everyone was very quiet. 

"Yes," said Sirius shortly. Harry noticed that he pressed his lips tightly together. 

"Why haven't you told me?"

"I ... well ... I didn't want to upset you. You've got so much to think about right now."

For a moment they flew in silence. Questions where whirling inside Harry's head. What would the village where his parents had lived be like? He had never seen it. Would he be able to see their house? If it still existed, that was. From what he had been told of Voldemort's assault fifteen years ago there might have been nothing left but ruins. But maybe he could at least visit his parents' grave if they were buried near the village. 

He was just about to ask Sirius when there was a resounding crack, a strangled cry and Harry saw a startled Snape falling towards the ground together with his broomstick snapped in half. 

Harry reacted instantly. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the falling Snape, crying "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" To his astonishment, however, the spell did not work. No sparks erupted from the wand tip and Snape was still falling like a stone. For all the effect his wand had, it might have been an ordinary piece of wood. Sending mud flying into the air, Snape splashed into a bog at the edge of a forest. 

Seconds later, Harry and Sirius landed on the shore. Sirius laughed so hard, he had nearly fallen off his broom as well. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he doubled up, guffawing loudly. Despite an uneasy feeling Harry couldn't help joining in. 

"I told you!" Sirius called out between snorts of laughter, while Snape cursed loudly. "I _told_ you!"

"Before you laugh your heads off," came Snape's furious voice from the bog, "kindly help me out of here." He stood waist-deep in the slough, unable to move so much as one inch and sinking slowly but steadily deeper. 

Sirius picked something up from the ground, smirking. It was Snape's wand that had fallen out of his pocket during the fall. "Nasty feeling to be so helpless and dependent on my mercy, isn't it, Snape?" Sirius's smirk deepened as he twirled the wand between his fingers. "I can't think of one single good reason why I shouldn't let you croak in there."

Snape was seething. "How about this one: You two have no idea where to go or what to do without me. I am the one in charge whereas you, Black, are nothing short of a mass murderer on the run, hindering the whole expedition."

Sirius went rigid. "Who's the mass murderer here, Snape?" he whispered dangerously. His face was dark red. Harry had never seen his godfather so angry before. "I ask you, Snape: _Who is the mass murderer?_ Take back that accusation or I swear, I won't lift a finger to help you -- Dumbledore or no Dumbledore. He's not here to help you now. It would be very easy for me, you know. It would look just like an accident." He was smiling insanely and Harry had the uneasy feeling that Sirius meant every word of what he said. "Your death is already overdue. How many lives have you destroyed? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? You should have received the Dementor's kiss long ago. And your vile intention to have _me kissed two years past even though I was innocent is only a further reason. You are a monster, Snape. And a coward on top of it. It would be almost a shame to let you die so easily and painless." _

Harry thought he could see a flicker of fear in Snape's dark eyes. "And how exactly do you intend to proceed without me if you allow the question?" he sneered, trying hard to retain an air of superiority, but the fact that he was standing waist-deep in the quagmire somewhat spoilt the effect. "Dumbledore would undoubtedly be interested in your excuses. I'm curious to know how he would take your breach of his trust. If you let me die, even he has a reason to send you back to Azkaban. What is more likely, of course, is that this time the Dementors perform their Kiss on you immediately. If you consider my death to be worth that fate, then I have obviously misjudged you, Black."

There was a profound silence and Harry knew that Snape had won. Sirius's and Snape's eyes were interlocked in a mutual stare of such intense hatred that the belated ladybird that happened to buzz through this intangible connection of ill-will should have withered on the spot. It was impossible to say who of them bore more hatred of the other or who was more intransigent. As ironical as it was to think that about two people who hated each other with a passion, but in that moment Harry found that they were very similar. 

Sirius was the first to break eye-contact. Abruptly, he made a few paces to where a dry bough lay on the ground, snatched it up and held it out for Snape to grasp. "For the cause," he said curtly, "not for you." Glowering, Snape took it and inch by inch, Sirius pulled him out of the bog. 

Harry smiled as he watched. Sirius's and Snape's hate might be ever so strong, but they would never betray Dumbledore for the sake of their own grudges. The smile, however, soon disappeared from Harry's face -- he was holding his wand in his hand. And this time he was dead sure that he hadn't taken it out of his pocket. 

_No! Harry thought. _Please! Not again!__

But whatever had control over him did not listen. His hand was glued to the wand and moved slowly and relentlessly forward as if someone was pulling at the other end. He would not have been able to drop the wand if he had wanted to. 

The wand pointed at Sirius who had his back turned, dragging Snape out of the quagmire. 

"_Kill!_" The command echoed inside Harry's head like the humming of a hundred bees. With all his might Harry tried to move the wand away from Sirius. It was even harder than last time. Already he felt his mouth opening. Sweat leapt out on his forehead from the effort of fighting against the power that had him in control. _No! Not Sirius! Harry thought frantically._ NOT SIRIUS!__

With an almighty lurch the wand jerked off course, causing Harry to stagger backwards and leaving him shaking. 

"This is the first and last time I ever saved your life," Sirius snarled at Snape who was standing on firm ground again, dripping with mud. 

Throwing him a poisonous look, Snape snatched back his wand, pointed it at himself and muttered, "_Purus_." Instantly, he was as dry and clean as before. 

Harry sighed with relief. No one had noticed anything.

"So," said Sirius, "since we have only two brooms left, I suggest this scumbag," he jerked his head at Snape in disgust, "walks while we fly. What do you think, Harry?"

"Don't trouble yourself, Black," Snape sneered. "I can Apparate to the _Flashing Wands in a second. The question is how _you_ get there."_

"Bastard!" Sirius muttered quietly but very distinctly. He had never flown to Godric's Hollow, Harry knew, and his licence to Apparate had long expired. That meant if Sirius splinched himself -- and the probability was very high after spending fourteen years unpractised -- he would be caught and receive the Dementor's Kiss. Besides Harry, who could only go by broom, needed someone to escort him safely to the village. 

"I suggest you lend me your broom and share Potter's," said Snape equitably. 

"No way!" said Sirius with finality. "That broom is new. I won't let you sit on it. You are capable of wrecking this one too."

"Then Potter lends me his and shares yours."

"Harry's broom was a gift of mine!" Sirius snarled. 

Snape's voice assumed a tone of threatening calmness. "We can either stand here and argue until tomorrow or we do what I suggested." Harry saw a vein on Snape's temple throbbing dangerously. 

"You can have my broom," Harry said quickly, handing Snape the Firebolt. "I'll fly together with Sirius."

"Very generous, Potter," said Snape, his mouth twisting wryly. "At least you have more sense than your godfather." He cast a venomous look at Sirius. "Let's go."

Darkness was already starting to fall when they finally landed in the middle of a forest. As far as one could see there was no house or sign of habitation, just the black outlines of mighty gnarled trees. 

"I thought we were sleeping in a pub," Sirius said jokingly, looking around himself, "and not up a tree." Luckily, the tension between Snape and Sirius had relaxed during the last few hours and they were almost capable of speaking with each other like normal people. Almost. 

Snape looked at him coldly. "We are here so you can disguise yourself and take your potion." He took something out of the pocket of his cloak; Harry couldn't see it properly as it was already so dark. Snape pointed his wand at it, muttered "_Engorgio_," and the object in his hand grew bigger until Harry recognized it as robes. 

Snape tossed them at Sirius. "There," he said. "Put them on." Then he reached inside another pocket and drew out a phial with a purplish liquid. "That's your Polyjuice," he said, handing the phial to Sirius. "Don't forget that the effects expire after an hour."

Sirius's face twisted into a disgusted expression as he took the phial, and he eyed it with the utmost suspicion. "And I already hoped Dumbledore had forgotten it." Grumbling, he disappeared in the thicket. 

Harry remained alone with Snape. It was getting darker and darker; a pale moon had begun to rise, he could see it through the tangle of twigs and rustling leaves. 

Suddenly he felt it again. His wand had leapt into his hand. Harry could feel his heart beating faster. Of their own accord, his fingers closed around the piece of wood in an iron grip. Helpless as a puppet, Harry had to watch his arm stretch out and point the wand at Snape who was leaning against a tree trunk a bit further off. Harry tried to pull at the wand, leaned himself backwards in an attempt to force it away from his teacher. But he could try as much as he wanted -- the wand remained fixed. 

"_Kill!_" the dreaded voice began to shout inside his head. "_KILL!_" 

Harry gritted his teeth to prevent himself from opening his mouth and saying the deadly words. Every nerve inside him strained to fight against the dark power. The strain was so great that his eyes started to water and his vision became blurred. And yet it was to no avail. Inexorably, Harry's jaws parted; he heard himself whisper the beginning of the Killing Curse. "_Avada..."_

_Stop! Harry thought desperately. _Stop!__

"... _Kedavra!_" 

_NO!_

Just as the jet of green light shot out of the wand, Harry managed to wrench it off its target. The curse hit the next tree and Harry, keeling over backwards from the force of the jerk, fell to the ground. 

Snape was there in a flash. "What the devil are you doing there, Potter?" he asked sharply, coming to a halt next to his sprawled student. 

"Oh ... I ... er ... wanted to scare away a bat," Harry lied, panting. 

"A bat?" Snape repeated, lifting an eyebrow. "And that requires throwing yourself onto the ground?"

"I just ... overbalanced," Harry replied truthfully. 

"Indeed?" From the expression on Snape's face Harry could see that the Potions Master wasn't believing a word. 

To Harry's enormous relief Sirius came back at exactly that moment and the questioning was at an end. Or rather, it was Professor Sinistra, Harry's Astronomy teacher, who issued from behind the trees. She was a young witch in her mid-thirties, not unattractive. Her light-brown hair was usually tied in a knot at the back of her neck and her blue eyes always sparkled with energy. Even though Sirius had mentioned to Harry that Dumbledore wanted him to take Polyjuice Potion, Harry found it a weird thing to suddenly see Professor Sinistra in front of him instead of Sirius. 

Sirius alias Professor Sinistra wore -- from what Harry could see -- a frilly purple dress under the black travelling cloak and a rather ridiculous hat with large blue feathers. His features were contorted in disgust. "I'll get back at Dumbledore for this!" Professor Sinistra's voice cursed. "If I had known what this would be like...! Stop grinning, Harry!"

"Well?" smirked Snape. "The 'great adventurer' appears to have lost his spirit."

"And you shut up!" Sirius snarled at Snape. "Just let me remind you of this nice Boggart Neville once fought."

Snape's smirk instantly vanished. "Get a move on," he snapped. "It's just a few more minutes until Godric's Hollow." 

They came to a halt in front of a red brick building. A sign over the door, illuminated by a torch, read "_The Flashing Wands_". Snape pushed open the black wooden door and went inside, Harry and Sirius in his wake. They found themselves in a warm but rather shabby room with black furniture. The only light came from the candles on the half a dozen tables and from several torches on the sooty walls. Overhead, wooden beams criss-crossed the low blackened ceiling. The inn was not dissimilar to the Leaky Cauldron. Four tables were occupied by witches and wizards who were either talking animatedly or reading the _Daily Prophet_, some smoking pipes. 

Snape, Sirius and Harry approached the bar where the innkeeper was drying glasses with a smudgy cloth. He was a small man with a big black moustache and a deep tan. 

"Buona sera," he said with a toothy grin and a slight bow. "Can I help you?" He spoke with a strong accent and in an unpleasantly oily manner. 

"We have booked two rooms," said Snape. "My name is Wheathergood."

"Ah, un momento!" the innkeeper replied. He rummaged inside a drawer, finally pulling out a battered-looking book which he leafed through. "Esatto," he said eventually, jabbing a finger at a page filled with squiggles. "Here it is: Signore e Signora Wheathergood with son, room 102." He took a key from the board on the wall behind him and laid it onto the counter. "Prego."

"Excuse me," said Snape, frowning. "We have booked _two rooms, not one."_

"Due camere?" the innkeeper asked quizzically. "Ma no! Here it says: a double room with an extra bed per il figlio."

"I have to insist on two rooms."

"Mi dispiace! I'm sorry," said the innkeeper, wildly gesticulating, "but we're full up. Non ci sono più di camere."

"Is there another pub near where we could get one more room?" Snape asked impatiently. "It's just that our ... ah ... _son is used to having a room of his own."_

The innkeeper gave a regretful shake of his head. "I'm afraid, Signore Wheathergood, but there's just the _Dancing Fairy_ which is full up as well." He shrugged. "Il figlio will stay con la mamma ed il papà in one room for the few days, won't he?" He gave Harry an encouraging smile, his dark eyes glittering.

Harry looked up at Sirius and Snape who were both wearing stony expressions. 

"Well," Snape said at length, "as it seems we have no other option. We'll take the room." His mouth set in a hard line, he snatched the key from the counter. 

The innkeeper smiled his broad greasy grin again. "Grazie, Signore," he said, bowing. "Just go up the stairs; the room is on the first floor. Have a nice stay, Signore Wheathergood. Buona notte!" He leered at Sirius as Professor Sinistra, smiling unpleasantly. "Buona notte, Signora Wheathergood!"

Sirius nodded with a forced smile, that looked almost graceful on Professor Sinistra's face, and followed Snape up the stairs. 

"Bastard," he muttered when they were out of earshot. "And with Snape in one room too -- that's just what I needed."

"You are welcome to sleep outside in the forest, Black," Snape replied acidly, unlocking the door to their room. "Being a _dog," his voice drawled sardonically on the last word, "that would be nothing out of the ordinary for you, I presume." _

They entered. The room was rather small and Spartan. On the right was a double bed with greyish sheets and on the opposite wall an old moth-eaten sofa with a blanket that, with sufficient imagination, could be called an 'extra bed'. A small table and two spindly chairs stood before the small mullioned window and a narrow wardrobe occupied the space behind the door. 

"I hope one thing is clear," said Sirius, flinging himself onto the sofa and yanking the ridiculous feathered hat from Professor Sinistra's head, "I won't sleep next to you!" He glared at Snape as if it were his fault that all the rooms were booked. 

"I have no objection," Snape sneered. "You can have the sofa."

"No, _you_ will sleep on the sofa. I don't think Harry wants to have you by his side either. You are outnumbered."

Realizing that that was true, Snape strode angrily over to the shabby piece of furniture. "Then shove off, _Black!_" he snarled. It was remarkable, Harry thought, how he always managed to make the name 'Black' sound like 'slime-covered piece of vermin'. 

Grinning, Sirius got up, took off his cloak and lay down on the bed in Sinistra's frilly dress, Harry next to him in T-shirt and jeans. Sirius was slowly turning back into his usual self; you could see the hair darkening and growing shorter. "Have a good night on your sofa, Snape!" he teased. "And _sleep well!"_

"You will soon laugh on the other side of your face!" Snape hissed in a voice filled with hatred. "As soon as this is over. I swear it!"

"Ah ... always these threats ..." Sirius said languidly. "One does tire of them, you know."

Harry almost thought he could hear Snape's teeth grinding together, but this time the Potions Master seemed to prefer to dispense with a reply.

Once the candles had been extinguished, Harry lay in his bed, feeling restless. He thought about the attacks again. How long would he still be able to oppose the power that had him in its grip? How long would it take until he killed the first person, he wondered. It was not something he liked to contemplate. Would the demons appear again tonight? If they had been real -- and everything that had happened eliminated all doubt -- they would. Harry was almost sure of it. They hadn't got any souls today either and undoubtedly they would call him to account. He shuddered to think about it. 

He didn't know why he hadn't told Sirius yet. Sirius had made him promise to inform him of anything unusual and yet he hadn't done it. Maybe it was because with all the bickering between Sirius and Snape there never was a chance for Harry to speak with Sirius undisturbed. Or maybe this was just a pretext, made up to fool himself because he actually didn't _want to speak with anyone about it. _

But it was all the same; tomorrow he would tell Sirius, he determined before he fell asleep. 

~*~

_As Harry had expected he was in the fire-lit hall again. The now familiar semicircle of demons stood around him as it had the nights before, and the chief demon stepped forward. _

_"You are very foolish, mortal boy," it said, hissing threateningly. "Why do you deny us our prey?"_

_Harry remained silent, looking steadily into the demon's yellow, cat-like eyes. _

_"You sacrifice your own soul by saving the souls of others," it continued. "Does your own salvation mean so little to you?"_

_"No," Harry replied defiantly. "But no one deserves to lose their soul just because of me."_

_The demon's eyes flashed maliciously. "Very noble," it said slyly. "So you refuse to fulfil the contract?"_

_"If that's what you like to call it, yes," he answered more bravely than he felt._

_"As you wish," the demon said. "It is all the same to us. Whether we get your soul or someone else's does not matter. Just let me warn you one last time: There is not much of your soul left and once it is gone you will be a prisoner of hell and stay there for ever." It grinned malignantly. _

_"Didn't you say I was immortal?" Harry asked stubbornly. "And even invincible? How come you can hurt me and claim my life?"_

_The demon's grin deepened. "Did you really think we would direct our own power against us? You are only immortal and invincible on earth, not here."_

_"Where is this?" asked Harry, looking around himself. "Is this hell? It's not part of my dreams, is it?"_

_ "No," replied the demon. "This is neither hell nor a dream. We only summoned you into another dimension."_

_"Another dimension?"_

_"Yes," said the demon. "An Intermediate Dimension. They are everywhere and they are a means for creatures of different dimensions to meet. It would have been far too complicated to summon you to the hell dimension itself just to communicate with you. And it is equally difficult for you mortals to summon us to earth. Therefore we use Intermediate Dimensions." _

_"What other dimensions are there?" Harry asked curiously._

_The demon's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Enough of that. You still owe us our recompense."_

_Harry swallowed. He already guessed what was coming. And he was right. The chief demon strode forward and repeated the procedure of the previous night. With his long fingernail he tore open the half-healed wound on Harry's chest so that it bled anew and Harry had to bite back a yelp of pain. Then the demon extracted another fistful of the blue smoke from it. As it did so Harry felt a sort of haze settle inside his head. His vision blurred, he couldn't think clearly; then it became black around him and he knew no more. _

~*~

The next morning Harry was woken by the bickering noises of Sirius and Snape. 

"... find yourself another room," Sirius's angry voice penetrated the woolly tangles of his dreams. "I could hardly sleep. Every time you moved that sofa made squeaky noises. It was irritating."

"Really?" came the sneering retort. "I'm surprised you could hear it over your troll-like snoring."

Harry opened his eyes. Sirius -- entirely returned to his usual self -- and Snape were standing in the middle of the room, looking daggers at each other. 

Harry groped for his glasses on the bedside table, missed and knocked over the candle that had been standing there. It fell to the ground with its brazen stand, clanging loudly. 

The two men turned around instantly. 

"Oh, good morning, Harry," Sirius said cheerfully, then added with a scowl in Snape's direction, "Did he wake you up with his yelling?"

Snape gave a disgusted snort. 

"Er ... no, that's all right," said Harry quickly. It was better to keep his mouth shut and stay neutral as it wasn't very wise to side openly with either of them. If he sided with Sirius and started to attack Snape, he could cancel his hopes of passing the next Potions exam, and if he sided with Snape, well, that was out of the question anyway. 

"So ... what's on the schedule for today?" Harry asked to put their minds off quarrelling. 

"Snape?" said Sirius, looking at him inquiringly. "What's your plan?"

"As yet we can't do anything," Snape replied. "We have to wait until the next Death Eater meeting."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "What? The cunning, wily, ever so imaginative Slytherin is all out of ideas?" he scoffed. 

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "When did I say I was out of ideas?"

"Not? Well, then out with your plan!"

Snape threw Sirius a dirty look. "We have no choice but to wait until the Dark Lord summons his servants," he began, "as this is the only chance for us to locate the Dark Lord. No one knows his whereabouts when he's alone, not even his closest servants. It would be too risky for him to confide in anyone. Therefore we will smuggle Potter into Blackmore's Hill at the next meeting and confront him with the Dark Lord."

Sirius gazed at him open-mouthed. "You are not serious, are you?"

"What, if I may ask, makes you think I am joking?" Snape looked at him with hooded eyes. 

"You want to send Harry into the midst of all those Death Eaters without any arms? Are you mad? They will kill him within seconds!" He suddenly narrowed his eyes. "Or is that just a trick of yours?" he asked suspiciously. "Are you still working for Voldemort and planning to extradite Harry?"

"I am not," Snape said shortly. 

"Ah, so this is all brotherly love, right?"

"If Dumbledore's word isn't enough to convince you, I can't help you."

Sirius scrutinized him for several seconds. "Fine," he said at length. "You think sending Harry to beard the lion in his den is a good plan? Let's at least ask someone who is going to give us a slightly more intelligent opinion." He turned around. "Hello wall! What do _you_ think?"

"If you think you're being funny, Black," Snape said coldly, "then let me correct you. I'm curious to hear _your_ plan." He crossed his arms, looking at Sirius with raised eyebrows. 

Sirius thought for a moment. "Well ... we could ..."

"Yes?"

"For God's sake, you are the ingrained Slytherin here, not me," Sirius snapped. "Thinking up plans is your job!"

Snape looked satisfied. "I'm glad to hear you finally grasped it, Black."

"But I'm warning you, Snape," Sirius snarled threateningly, "if they so much as harm a hair of Harry's head, you will rue the day you were born!"

A thought inside Harry's mind that had been trying frantically to get attention for the last few seconds was finally being acknowledged. Harry's head snapped up. "Oh, erm ... did I tell you I was invulnerable?"

For a moment, Snape and Sirius both stared at him. 

"Invulnerable?" Snape repeated slowly, studying him with an arched brow. "I suppose that would be the reason why your shirt is bloody?"

Harry looked down at himself. "My -- Oh ..." The blood from the gash in his chest had soaked his T-shirt. "That ... that is from an old scratch," he lied. "I'm invulnerable since I wear the Ayrin. The blood is from before that. Accident in Herbology," he added.

"Why haven't you told me, Harry?" Sirius asked and the disappointment in his voice was very apparent. 

"What? That I cut myself?"

"You know what I mean."

Harry felt guilty. He had simply forgotten to tell Sirius he had become invulnerable, but what would Sirius say if he found out that Harry had concealed all these strange meetings with the demons from him? That he had lied about the blood? It almost hurt physically to deceive his godfather like that. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. "I have forgotten to tell you."

"One moment, Potter," Snape interrupted, giving him a sharp look. "I can't remember having seen that blood when you went to bed."

Harry felt uneasy. Would they believe him? He doubted it. Even if he could convince Sirius, Snape would not be that easily impressed. Harry knew he ought to tell them what had happened in the night. He knew perfectly well that he was making a big mistake in keeping silent, but he just couldn't do it. Whatever reason there was -- shame, fear, or more dark magic that sealed his mouth -- he couldn't tell them. Not now. 

So he had to lie on. "Sure it was there. You must have overlooked it in the dark."

Snape cast him a shrewd look. "So you are absolutely sure that you are invulnerable?" he asked, watching him intently. 

"Yes."

"Does it also work for curses?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't know. I haven't tried it."

"Then we'll do it now," Snape said with determination.

"I'm warning you, Snape," Sirius growled. "If you hurt Harry--"

"... I will rue the day I was born, I know," Snape said irritably. "This is getting tiresome. Stand back or my hand might shake and the curse hits you instead of Potter." Scowling, Sirius retreated while Snape took out his wand and pointed it at Harry. 

Harry was confident that nothing would hurt him as long as he was on earth and wore the Ayrin. The demons had said so, and the incident in Herbology had proved it. He stood in the middle of the room, relaxed. 

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Snape shouted, waving his wand. Nothing happened. 

"_Stupefy!_" Again, no effect whatsoever. Snape tried a number of complicated and dangerous-sounding spells, all to no avail.

"I told you it wouldn't have an effect on me," Harry said.

"I'm not yet finished, Potter," Snape replied. "_Imperio!" The floating sensation of carelessness Harry had come to know in Mad Eye Moody's lessons did not follow, Harry was fully aware of everything around him. _

Snape seemed to hesitate, considering his next curse. At length he swung his wand again, crying "_Av_--"

"NO!" With a battle-cry Sirius lunged forward, throwing himself at Snape, who was caught completely off guard. The two men overbalanced and crashed onto the floor. 

"_Black!_" Snape yelled, infuriated, from beneath Sirius. He was seething. But so was Sirius. 

"You evil slimebucket!" he shouted, hitting Snape's hand hard against the wooden floor, causing the Potions Master to let go of his wand with a gasp of pain. "You were trying to kill Harry! I knew you would play false! All the time you were waiting to get that chance, weren't you? Tell me -- what was Voldemort promising you for delivering Harry, huh? A sack of gold and the privilege of becoming the cleaner of the Dark Lord's bedpan if you hand over Harry dead or alive?" 

Snape was struggling futilely to get away from Sirius. "I don't know what you're talking about," he spat, "but this display of yours is absolutely ridiculous!" He made another vain attempt at freeing himself from Sirius's iron grip that was pinning his wrists to the floor. "I never had the intention to kill Potter nor to try out if he is able to resist the Killing Curse." 

"Don't lie!" Sirius growled. "You were going to say _Avada Kedavra!"_

"I was _not_ going to say _Avada Kedavra," Snape said testily. "Though I doubt that even the Killing Curse would have had an effect on Potter. What I was going to say was _Aveho Visum_, a simple spell to turn you temporarily blind."_

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Sirius snarled. 

"I don't care what you believe," Snape said, glaring. "Now, would you mind getting off me?"

With an air of deep suspicion, Sirius released Snape and got to his feet. "I won't let you try any more curses on Harry, though."

"I had just been about to finish before you interrupted." Glowering, Snape snatched his wand and stood up, too, massaging his wrists. 

"You all right, Harry?" Sirius asked with a concerned look. 

Harry nodded. "Sure. I didn't feel a thing. Everything dangerous seems to simply pass through me; it was the same in Herbology when I cut myself. The knife couldn't hurt me."

Harry suddenly noticed that Snape was studying him intently. The teacher approached him, brows knitted together, his black eyes fixed on Harry's green ones. Harry began to feel uncomfortable under his scrutinizing look. What was wrong?

"What happened to your eyes?" Snape asked bluntly. 

"What?"

"Your eyes -- they are paler than usual."

Harry was completely bewildered. What was Snape talking about? How could his eyes be paler? "What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"Just what I said."

"I can't see any difference," Sirius said, gazing into Harry's eyes, too. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Could all this be an effect of him wearing the Ayrin? He was just about to give voice to his concerns when he changed his mind. No, he couldn't tell them his suspicion without telling them everything else that had happened. And to do that, he felt, he wouldn't be capable of yet. So he kept it to himself. 

"How would _you_ know?" Snape was sneering. "How often have you seen Harry in the last fifteen years? Five times?"

"He's got his mother's eyes," said Sirius, "and I've seen Lily during my whole school time." His voice grew harsher as he made a step towards Snape. "She was one of my best friends and if it hadn't been for you--"

"Careful, Black!" Snape breathed. He had drawn his wand and was pointing it at Sirius. In his eyes was a look of such intense hatred, it was startling. "Choose your words carefully because they might be your last."

Sirius's mouth was set in a hard line, the look in his eyes matched Snape's. 

"Do you really want to bring it all up again?" Snape continued, a fire burning in his eyes. 

Almost imperceptibly, Sirius's eyes flickered in the direction of Harry, and he silently stepped back from Snape. For a few seconds, Snape remained standing motionlessly, then he pocketed his wand again.  

"If you'll excuse me," he snapped, grabbing his cloak from the sofa. "I'm going. Don't expect me back until sunset." He strode to the door and slammed it shut behind him. 

Sirius looked after him with loathing. "A wise decision," he said between his teeth. 

Harry strode to the wardrobe. Earlier he had noticed a mirror on the inside of one door and he was determined to inspect his eyes himself. 

His pale reflection stared back at him from the stained, half-blind looking glass. Harry squinted at his own eyes and realized with a pang that Snape had been right. His eyes, formerly the colour of emeralds, had turned into a pale, sickly green that was almost unnatural. The change felt so obvious to him that he was surprised Sirius hadn't noticed anything. But he secretly agreed with Snape. Sirius really hadn't seen him very often and memories faded with time. 

"Was Snape right after all?" Sirius asked from behind him as if reading his thoughts. He had come to look at Harry's reflection as well. "You know, come to think of it, your eyes might really be a bit pale. Maybe you got a draught while we were flying?"

"Y-yes, that's possible," Harry lied and quickly closed the door of the wardrobe. "What are we going to do now?" he asked to change the subject. 

"We're going to have a nice, Snape-free day," Sirius replied cheerfully. Harry could see that his godfather was making an effort to suppress his anger about Snape so as not to spoil the day for Harry. "What would you like to do?"

"See the village," said Harry at once, and Sirius had no objection. 

So after Sirius had taken his potion to turn himself back into Professor Sinistra, they had breakfast down in the bar. Harry couldn't wait to see the place where his parents had lived and wolfed down his breakfast, urging Sirius. 

The village was small and peaceful and gave the impression that it was the last homely place before the end of the world. At the centre of it was a market place with a wrought-iron well, surrounded by neat houses with tiny front gardens and flowerpots before bull's eye window panes. Harry didn't count more than three shops and two inns -- their own and the _Dancing Fairy. The surroundings consisted of nothing but green meadows and the dark, sinister-looking forest behind them, stretching out for miles and miles. _

Harry was disappointed that the house his parents had lived in no longer stood. The ruins Voldemort had left after his attack had been pulled down and a new house had been built in its place long ago. Yet the garden was still there with its high, gnarled oaks and wild flowers blooming amidst the green grass. Sirius told him that it had looked just the same when he had last visited the place fifteen years past, and Harry imagined his parents walking through the greenery, a picture that filled him with sadness. 

He was very quiet when they finally decided to have lunch at the _Dancing Fairy. Sirius had insisted they eat there since he didn't want to risk meeting Snape in the __Flashing Wands, though Harry himself doubted that Snape would let himself be seen before the evening, but he didn't give voice to his thoughts. _

The _Dancing Fairy_ was very much alike the _Flashing Wands_ and very crowded when they entered. It seemed as though half the village was assembled in the cavernous room. Harry spotted two vacant seats at a table to the back of the inn, otherwise occupied by three wizards talking and laughing loudly. He sat down while Sirius went to the bar to order food and drinks. When he came back and perched on the chair next to Harry, the heads of the three wizards turned around. 

"May I invite you to a drink, Miss?" the one next to Harry asked with a lewd stare out of his deep-set eyes. He had longish brown hair and wore a travel-worn, dark green cloak. 

For a moment Sirius just gaped at him, then, obviously remembering that he was Professor Sinistra, the corners of his mouth sank in disgust and he declined in not the most courteous of tones. 

"That your son?" the man opposite Harry asked with a nod of his head. He looked like a brute. 

"Yes," Harry said quickly, nervously flattening the hair over his lightening-scar. It would be dangerous if anyone recognized him here. 

Maybe something about him or the way he had said 'yes' struck the wizard as odd, for suddenly his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Harry dropped his gaze to the table, hoping against hope he wouldn't be recognized. He knew how that worked. Once someone found out who he was the whole pub would know within seconds. But the man didn't say anything and slowly relief swept over Harry. 

Then their food arrived. A serving girl in sky-blue robes brought them two tankards with butterbeer and platters laden with roast-beef, potatoes and green peas. Hungrily Harry and Sirius both dug in. 

"Is there a graveyard near the village?" Harry asked Sirius between bites of potato. 

Sirius shot him a warning look, indicating the three strangers at their table. Guiltily, Harry looked down and resumed eating in silence, but the strangers had heard.

"The graveyard?" the one in front of him asked. " What would you be wanting on the graveyard?"

"Distant relatives lived here some time ago," Sirius said before Harry could answer, stepping on his foot beneath the table. 

"What was their name?" the stranger in the dark green cloak wanted to know. "Might be I knew them."

Harry had listened with growing unease. Why were those three so interested in them? His gaze fell upon the third stranger who hadn't spoken so far. He was leaning against the wall next to the brute and Harry caught him watching him with unnerving, pale eyes that, with a pang, reminded him of his own.

Just then Harry felt his wand stirring inside his pocket, but this time he was prepared. Quick as a snake his hand went to his pocket and pressed it shut so the wand couldn't jump out of it. But the wand didn't give up so easily. It struggled aggressively to get out, pushing and stabbing Harry painfully in the stomach and he had to bring up all his strength not to let it loose. 

_Why haven't I left it in our room? Harry thought desperately when a sudden wrench made him crash into the table and bowl over his tankard with butterbeer. Then, all at once, his wand stopped thrashing. With a grimace of pain Harry rubbed his elbow where it had hit the edge of the table while butterbeer spread over the tabletop, dripping onto the floor. _

Harry saw Sirius and the three strangers staring at him and he realized what a weird view it must have been when he bowled into the table for no visible reason. 

"Stomach ache," he mumbled as an apology and it wasn't even a lie. It still hurt where the wand had stabbed him. 

"Happens I have a good potion against stomach ache," the man next to Harry said, wringing out his right sleeve which had been in the way when Harry's tankard had been knocked over. "I live just across the street, if you'd like to--"

"No thanks," Sirius said quickly, dragging Harry from his chair. "We're in rather a hurry." He pulled Harry with him up to the bar where he laid some coins onto the counter before leaving the inn. 

"That might have been close," Sirius said with a stern face when they were finally alone. "_Never_ speak to strangers here. This is the place where Death Eater meetings are regularly taking place. You don't know which side a stranger's on. And those three inside there looked very suspicious if you ask me."

"I'm sorry," Harry said timidly. "I didn't know we had to be _that careful."_

"Now you do."

"Are my parents buried on the graveyard?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes," was the short answer.

"Will you go with me ...?"

Sirius sighed. "I'm sorry Harry, but I don't want to go there. Not now. Maybe when all this is over ... that would be better for you too."

Even though Harry burned to see his parents' grave he didn't urge Sirius further. Maybe there was another possibility, maybe he didn't need Sirius to show him.

They walked back to the _Flashing Wands_ in silence. Their room was empty when they returned -- Snape hadn't come back yet. To while away the time and to lift their spirits a little they played _Exploding Snap_ (which Sirius called spitefully Exploding_ Snape_). It was already dark when they stopped playing and Snape still wasn't back yet. They resolved to go to bed, Sirius vowing that he wouldn't get up to let Snape in when he came, as Snape didn't have a key to the room. 

Harry tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, dreading to see the demons when he fell asleep and thinking of his parents. He wondered if Dumbledore had known that they were hiding just near the place where Voldemort had held his Death Eater meetings. And if yes, why he had counselled them to go right into the lion's den. 

A silver crescent moon shone in through the small window, now and again hidden by scudding clouds, throwing the room into a play of light and shadow. Harry thought of the graveyard again and reached a decision. It was no use lying around in his bed when he dreaded every second that sleep befall him. Carefully he bent over Sirius. His godfather was sleeping soundly, Harry could hear his deep, regular breathing. As silently as possible he disentangled himself from the blankets, laced up his shoes and threw his cloak around his shoulders. His wand remained safely on the bedside table, he wouldn't take any risks. He then tiptoed towards the door and turned the key. Casting a last glance at his sleeping godfather, Harry pushed the door handle and winced as a hinge creaked. But he managed to slip unseen and unheard through the open gap into the corridor. 

Outside Harry let go of his breath. The first step he had managed. Now he only needed someone to tell him where the graveyard was. 

Downstairs at the bar the innkeeper was still busy washing glasses, even though it must have been way past midnight and the room was empty of guests. This was his chance. Sirius had said that he wasn't to talk to any strangers but the innkeeper wasn't exactly one. They all knew where he lived and if anything happened, the Ministry would find him. Surely it was safe to ask him a simple question such as where the graveyard of Godric's Hollow was!

"Excuse me, Sir," Harry said. "Could you tell me how I get to the graveyard?"

"The graveyard?" the innkeeper repeated with lifted eyebrows. "What do you want at the graveyard in the middle of night?"

"Please," Harry urged. "It is important."

"Certo." The innkeeper smiled his toothy grin. "Cross the market place, follow the path that leads past the old barn on the meadow and into the wood. After a few minutes you will come upon a clearing. There's the graveyard."

"Thanks," Harry sad gladly.

The innkeeper made a mocking bow. "Prego."

Feeling mischievous and just a little guilty that he had sneaked away from Sirius, Harry followed the earthen trail. The barn was long behind him, a ramshackle, dilapidated thing, and he was drawing near the edge of the wood. Like a mass of dark, ghostly giants the trees loomed before him, making him feel small and lost. Yet there was no turning back now. He had started this adventure trip to the graveyard and he was going to finish it. A little uneasiness wasn't going to hold him back. 

As he plunged into the forest the blackness deepened. The faint shimmer of the moon was hardly visible beneath the dense canopy of leaves and twigs. Rotting leaves rustled with every step he made. To his left and right there was an equally impenetrable wall of trees, mighty trees that must have been there hundreds of years ago. 

Harry could hardly see where he was going. The path was treacherous. Thick, gnarled roots stuck out from the ground to trip him, while branches whipped at his face from above. Sometimes Harry thought he heard the howling of a wolf and stopped to listen, but the sound was too far away to make out. 

Just as he thought the forest would never end and fear began to creep up inside him that he had taken the wrong path and was lost, the trees parted to reveal a wide, flat clearing. The place was strewn with dozens of headstones, flooded by the pale, milky moonlight, here and there interspersed with tall weeping willows. 

Hesitantly Harry approached, passing row after reverent row of tombstones, the heavy black soil that was still damp from a shower of rain muffling his footsteps. The weathered stones bore names and dates that reached back to the sixteenth century. 

As he turned around a group of three weeping willows, their long branches hanging sadly to the ground, he saw a huddled shape at one of the headstones. Harry stopped, startled. He hadn't thought to meet anyone here at this time of night. Hiding behind the low-hanging branches of the weeping willows, he peered through the dripping leaves. By the pale light of the moon the figure looked just a shadow against the stone. It had its back turned to Harry and was leaning against the headstone, one hand clutching the top. Squinting through the darkness, Harry noticed that the person seemed to be shaking with grief. 

The pressure eased a little. Surely that was no one dangerous. He was just about to emerge from under the weeping willows' branches and pass the mourner silently, when he spotted the names on the gravestone:

Here lie  
  
James Potter  
1960 - 1981

Lily Potter  
1961-1981

R.I.P.

Harry stopped dead. The stranger was crouching at his parents' grave! Seized by curiosity, he had to find out who he was. Warily he edged a little closer, trying to stay behind the cover of the trees. But he could try as he might, there was no way to see the stranger's face but to leave his cover and step into plain view. And he didn't dare linger too long lest Sirius wake up and find his bed empty. 

His contemplating was interrupted as he was suddenly aware of his hand clutching a rock. Harry stared. What new devilry was that? Already the terrible voices began to shout in his head. "_Kill!"_ they urged him. 

Harry turned his gaze towards the stranger cowering at the grave with his head bowed. With all his strength Harry threw the rock onto the humus-covered ground and ran. Past gravestone after gravestone and into the forest. He didn't pay any attention to where he was going, he just ran blindly through bushes and thickets, dodging trees. 

It was the Ayrin. The damned emerald had wanted to make him kill someone again! Now he knew that there was no way he could save others from himself. Sooner or later the Ayrin would succeed and Harry wouldn't be able to stop himself from killing any longer -- with or without a wand. In desperation he yanked the thin band that held the Ayrin over his head and threw the cursed stone as far away as he could. 

He ran on. He couldn't say how far or how long he ran but suddenly there was a black figure in front of him, blocking his way. Another emerged beside it, silent and ominous, and Harry halted, the anger he had felt a few seconds before giving way to fear. He found himself thinking of his wand, safely in his room and useless. As he turned around he saw more figures emerging from behind the trees, encircling him and drawing ever closer. There was no way to escape. 

_Are these the demons, he wondered. _Have they come for me because I didn't keep the contract and threw the Ayrin away? Is this the end?_ His heart racing, he awaited his fate. _

"_Stupefy!"_ a voice shouted, there was a bright flash of red light and then blackness swirled around him. 

**************

A/N: Lily's and James's year of death is derived from a Harry Potter lexicon where it says that they died at Halloween in 1981.

Thanks to all the people who reviewed and to all those avid readers who couldn't wait for your patience! I promise the next chapter won't take as long.


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